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Authors: Debra Webb

Still Waters (13 page)

BOOK: Still Waters
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He leaned his face toward hers. “I would really like to kiss you right now, but that’s a bad idea.”

She lifted her face, leaving no more than a couple of inches between their lips. “I was thinking the same thing.”

He moistened his lips, and her breath caught.

“What do you want to do about it?”

Amber reached up slowly and fisted her fingers in his shirt. “I say we get it over with so we can move past it.” She wet her lips. “My grandmother always said to go for whatever you wanted, otherwise you’d just go on wanting it.”

“Smart lady.”

His lips lowered to hers. The first contact had pure pleasure erupting inside her. His mouth was hot, his lips firm, but his kiss was slow and restrained. His fingers landed on her cheeks, tracing the lines of her face as his lips tasted and teased hers. She pulled at his shirt, drawing that amazing body nearer.

By the time he drew his lips from hers, her thighs were trembling and every part of her was on fire. He pressed his forehead to hers and whispered, “That was good.”

“Uh-huh.” She licked her lips, shivering at the taste of him.

“Should we do it again just to make sure we get it out of our systems?”

Amber closed her eyes and inhaled a slow, deep breath. She wanted to say yes so badly. “I think we should maybe wait until tomorrow and revisit the idea then.” Otherwise she was going to drag him into that big, unmade bed.

“Agreed.”

He drew away first and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans as if he didn’t trust himself.

Amber’s entire being protested the loss of contact. “Well, good night.”

He managed a stiff nod. “’Night.”

Amber didn’t breathe again until she was in the guest room with the door closed. She tossed the book onto the bed and dragged in a couple more deep breaths to calm her galloping pulse. When she felt in control again, she grabbed the tee and some clean underwear. She opened the door and peeked into the hall. Clear. She moved to the bathroom. He’d gone back to the living room and turned on the television. Once inside the bathroom, she closed the door and locked it. A glance in the mirror made her wince. She looked frightful. Her skin was even paler than usual. Dark circles had formed under her eyes.

With a groan, she turned on the water in the shower and undressed. How in the world had she allowed that to happen? What had she been thinking? Shaking her head, she stepped into the shower, and the hot water instantly banished all other thought.

For a while she stood there and allowed the water to work its magic on her tight muscles. It felt so good. She’d been so tense all day. Slowly, she reached for the soap and lathered it up. The clean, fresh scent of Sean filled the tiled space. She shivered despite the hot water.

A glutton for punishment, she closed her eyes and rubbed the soap over her skin. When she moved it over her breasts, her breath caught and she let the memory of his kiss consume her. By the time she’d lathered her skin, her body felt weak with want. In her mind his hands replaced hers, sliding the soap over her skin, his fingers tempting her nipples and trailing down her ribs. She trembled.

The soap slipped from her fingers and hit the floor. Amber jerked out of the fantasy. This was a perfect example of how badly the past few days had shaken her. She was fantasizing about a stranger. Sure they had spent the last forty-eight or so hours together, but they still didn’t know each other.

Hurrying through the rest of her shower, she rinsed her body with cool water. Even after she’d toweled off, she was still burning up. She dragged on the tee and her underwear and reached for the door. Maybe she should give herself a few more minutes before chancing an encounter with Sean.

After taking a deep breath, she prowled for a hair dryer and set to the task. She massaged her scalp with one hand while directing the hot air with the other. Her fingers slowed as she studied her reflection. What did Sean Douglas see when he looked at her? She was attractive enough, she supposed. Braces had taken care of her teeth back in middle school. She hadn’t suffered with acne like a lot of her friends, but she’d been teased endlessly about her freckles.

She didn’t mind the freckles really. The makeup when she was on the air basically covered them up, but she didn’t bother trying to hide them when she wasn’t on the job. She hung her towel over the shower door while the dryer cooled off, and then she searched the cabinet under the sink for a spare toothbrush. She’d left hers in the guest room.

A knock at the door made her jump. She bumped her head on the counter.

“I noticed your toothbrush on the bedside table,” Sean announced, his deep voice filtering through the door and wrapping around her. “You want it?”

Man alive did she want it, only it wasn’t the toothbrush. Amber rubbed at her head. She cracked the door open the tiniest bit and reached out. “Thanks.”

He placed the toothbrush in her waiting hand. “Welcome.”

When he walked away she closed the door and leaned against it for a long moment.
Get a grip, Amber.
Adrenaline is messing with your head.

Five minutes later, teeth brushed, dryer put away and her clothes folded in her arms, she exited the bathroom and headed straight for the guest room. “See you in the morning,” she called without a backward glance.

His deep voice followed her into the room. “Count on it.”

Chapter Thirteen

Fourth Avenue North,
Thursday, October 20, 10:20 a.m.

The story was out.

For six years Amber had chased the story. She had gone to great lengths to uncover details and insights no one else could find.

Now
she
was the story.

She and Sean had been summoned to the B&C office right after breakfast. On some level she was glad for the escape. All night the memory of that kiss had haunted her. Meeting his gaze this morning had been difficult. Primarily because she’d wanted to resume right where they’d left off.
So, so not smart.

On the way here, she’d focused on the case, hoping the summons meant there was good news, but judging by the look on Jess Burnett’s face that was not the case. Buddy Corlew had called first thing this morning to let them know the phone records had been a bust. There were plenty of calls between Adler and his customers, but none between him and Thrasher except those to the floral shop.

Amber braced for more bad news.

Jess closed the folder on her desk and looked first at Amber, then at Sean. “Thrasher is still at large. His car was found abandoned near the Nineteenth Street bus station. It’s possible he fled the city, but there’s always the chance he could be in hiding close by.”

It wasn’t necessary to be an FBI profiler to understand why Thrasher would choose not to run. “He may want to finish what he and Adler started,” Amber proposed.

Jess nodded. “Lieutenant Harper and I believe it would be best if you continued to keep a low profile for a few more days. We want to be sure you stay safe.”

“Wow.” Amber slumped in her chair. “This keeps growing more complicated.” So many times she had interviewed victims and expressed her sympathy. Now she understood the look in their eyes after she offered the usual words of commiseration. A person couldn’t possibly understand how
this
felt...unless he or she was the target. “So
you
believe I’m still in danger.”

“I do. I’ve had time to review all the available information on Thrasher and Adler,” Jess began. “Thrasher has spent his adult life dealing in flowers. He never married. No long-term relationships. His father died when he was ten and his mother passed away two years ago, so there’s no family. No record of mental illness or counseling of any sort. No health issues on record. According to the interviews conducted by the lieutenant’s team, his employees like him.”

“Is that typical in a killer?” Sean asked.

The sound of his voice wrapped around Amber and made breathing difficult. She wasn’t at all sure she could handle another night in the same house with him. She’d gone to sleep and awakened dreaming of making love with him. His voice, the way he moved, it all got under her skin somehow.

“Many killers are loners,” Jess explained. “Most psychopaths are quite charming. Not all are murderers. In fact, I’m not convinced Thrasher is a killer. Adler may have been the dominant one, but I haven’t found evidence suggesting as much. According to the interviews conducted by the BPD, Adler’s parents are very religious. They raised their son in a strict environment. Those who knew him called him a loner, shy, quiet. Nothing was found in either man’s home that tells us the rest of what we need to know.” Jess clasped her hands atop the folder. “I’m not willing to take the risk there’s another layer to one or both that I’m not seeing yet. Until we know more, we need to make sure you stay safe.”

Sean glanced at Amber. “I guess that means you’re stuck with me for a little while longer.”

She produced a smile. “I guess so.”

“If Thrasher and Adler were obsessed with you,” Jess said, “he won’t be able to stay away. He’ll need to see you. To be close.”

Her words sent goose bumps spilling over Amber’s skin. “I understand. The station isn’t expecting me back to work for a few days.” She swallowed, wishing her mouth hadn’t gone so dry. “I should stay home and not answer the door?”

A rap on the door drew Jess’s attention there. Amber glanced over her shoulder to see the receptionist poke her head into the office.

“There are at least a dozen reporters lining the street out front. When Ms. Roberts is ready to leave I would suggest the alley exit.”

Any hope of getting through this without mounting attention in the media curled up and died in the pit of Amber’s stomach.

“Thank you, Rebecca.” Jess shifted her attention to Amber. “The more your face is in the news, the more Thrasher will be incited to make a move—if he’s watching, as I suspect he is. If he’s obsessed with you, he can’t help himself.”

“How difficult do you believe it’ll be for the police to find him?” Amber pressed.

“His resources are limited, which helps, but there’s no guarantee he’ll be found.”

She could be looking over her shoulder for the rest of her life. This time the inability to draw in a deep breath had nothing to do with the man next to her. Something Jess had said suddenly elbowed its way to the front of her worries. “You said you’re not convinced Thrasher is a killer and that there’s no absolute evidence Adler is. If they aren’t killers, then who murdered those women?”

“Therein lies the rub,” Jess admitted. “Consider Adler’s murder. He was seated at the dining table having tea, presumably with his killer. If that killer was Thrasher, who is a far larger man than Adler, why get up from the table and go to the kitchen for a knife when you can easily overtake the victim?”

“You think there’s a third killer involved.” It wasn’t a question. Amber could see the conviction in Jess’s eyes.

“Lieutenant Harper has expanded the parameters of his investigation to include a potential third killer,” Jess explained. “In my opinion, it’s a necessary step.”

Amber felt completely unnerved. Totally unsettled. “Wow.”

“I would advise you to go someplace not a part of your routine,” Jess offered. “Someplace the killer or killers won’t know to look. Just for a few days. Let the BPD and us do what we need to do without having to worry about adding names to the victim list.”

“What about the other woman who was being watched?” Amber worried Jess hadn’t provided an update on the woman because it was more bad news. “Has she been found?”

“She has,” Jess said. “Her name is Emma Norton. The employee the BPD spoke to had just returned from vacation and didn’t realize Emma had taken her vacation this week. The lieutenant has spoken to her. She’s visiting her father in Seattle. I received the call just before you arrived.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Amber felt immensely relieved. It was bad enough two women were dead.

“Take a day or two someplace quiet while we sort this out,” Jess repeated. “Sean will see that you stay safe.”

He stood. “I’ll make sure the alley is still clear.”

Amber pushed to her feet. “I appreciate all you’re doing, Jess. I can’t imagine doing this alone.”

With effort Jess stood and rested a hand on her rounded belly. “I’m glad we can help. You are our top priority.”

Sean returned and ushered Amber to the rear entrance. Since the slots in front of the B&C office had been full when they arrived, he’d parked two blocks away. To avoid being spotted by her colleagues from the various stations around the city, they detoured another couple of blocks.

He opened her door, and Amber settled in the passenger seat. What if Thrasher wasn’t found by Monday? How long was she supposed to keep her life on hold? She should call Barb and let her know what was going on. Was her sister in danger? Jess hadn’t mentioned any concerns about Barb’s safety. Calling her boss was unavoidable. He would insist she take as much time as she needed.

She didn’t want to take more time. She wanted her life back. She wanted to avoid getting tangled up with her protector. She wanted to stay alive.

Amber looked around to get her bearings. She couldn’t say how long Sean had been driving before she snapped out of her pity party. “Where are we going?”

“My parents have a place on the river. I thought we’d go there.”

She hoped it was larger than his house. “What about clothes?” And other stuff, like a toothbrush and deodorant?

“We can drive past your house, but I’m guessing there are more reporters waiting there. We can stop for what we need once we’re out of the city.”

Amber resigned herself to her fate. It was either risk a confrontation with an obsessed killer or killers or spend time in a remote location alone with the man who had kissed her like she’d never before been kissed.

She stole a glance at him. She was in trouble either way.

River Road, 3:30 p.m.

J
UST
OVER
A
year ago Sean had escaped the hurt and anger by coming here. For six months after Lacy’s death the press hounded him. The official investigation had cleared him of any criminal wrongdoing related to her death, but he hadn’t been able to forgive himself. If he had paid closer attention...if he hadn’t allowed things to become personal, she might still be alive.

Intellectually he understood that the choices she had made in her life were not his responsibility, but in his heart he carried the burden. He had trusted her...trusted the love they shared.

What an arrogant fool he’d been.

“So this is where your family spends Christmas?”

Sean shook off the painful memories and focused on the woman standing in the middle of the family room. “This is the place.”

During the forty-five-minute drive from the city she’d initially remained silent. He imagined she grappled for some way to come to terms with the situation. As if she’d reached some understanding with herself, she had kept the conversation going from that point on, asking him question after question about the family cabin. His great-great-grandfather had built the room they were now standing in nearly a hundred years ago. Each generation had added additional square footage and renovated to include multiple bedrooms and bathrooms. His grandmother had been the one to insist on the huge eat-in kitchen.

“Take any bedroom you’d like.” The sooner they were settled, the sooner he could walk the grounds to clear his head. In the past twenty-four hours the lady had managed to breach his defenses entirely. That kiss had blown him away. Even a month ago he wouldn’t have believed he could feel that way again. He wanted to touch her and to kiss her...and a whole lot more.

She’s an assignment, blockhead. Work. You can’t go there.

“Which one do you usually take?”

Her question dragged him from the disturbing thoughts just in time to watch her turn all the way around again, taking in the enormity of the place. There were no frills, no chef’s kitchen or jetted tubs, just homey spaces with decent plumbing and incredible views of nature.

“Top of the stairs, first door on the left.” He hitched a thumb toward the door. “I’ll batten down the hatches and bring in the supplies.”

Since no one had stayed here since spring, there were a few things to be done before dark, like turning on the water and checking the generator in case there was a power outage. Then he had to bring in the food supplies and get the refrigerated goods stored. As long as he stayed busy, he would be good to go.

Maybe.

Sean did a quick walk-through of the house before heading outside. When he’d been a kid he’d dreamed of living here full-time. Of course puberty and girls had changed his mind. The occasional weekend here had felt like a world away from his school friends and whoever he’d been sweet on at the time. If only he had known how complicated life could be.

The sky was darker than usual. The rain would be here soon, along with a potential thunderstorm or two. All the more reason to check the generator. His father had taught him to ensure all the mechanics were in working order before getting comfortable. It wasn’t like you could call for a service man who would show up in an hour or so.

With the water on and the generator checked, he took a walk around the house and confirmed all was as it should be. Down at the road a passing car drew his attention. He should probably call his parents and let them know he was here. Neighbors were few and far between out here, but they kept an eye on each other’s property. His folks would no doubt get a call when the house lights were spotted tonight. Having his parents show up to investigate would not be a good thing. His mother had been complaining for years that she wanted grandchildren. Since his older siblings hadn’t stepped up to the plate, his mother was now eyeing him to fill that void.

The image of little redheaded girls frolicking around the pond made his heart stumble. Shaking his head at the crazy fantasy, he carried the first load of grocery bags into the house. When he returned with the rest, Amber was putting away the refrigerated goods.

“You didn’t tell me there was a basement with a wine cellar.” She put the quart of milk in the fridge. “This is no run-of-the-mill cabin, sir.”

“When my grandmother insisted on the kitchen expansion, my grandfather demanded the wine cellar with a smoking room.”

A smile spread across her lips as she set the sandwich bread on the counter. Man, he loved the way she smiled. “Sounds like your grandfather knew how to drive a hard bargain.”

“He did.” Sean placed the bag of mixed greens in the fridge. “He died three years ago, barely three weeks after my grandmother.”

“I’m so sorry.”

He met her sympathetic gaze. “They were like that. Did everything together, and wherever one went, the other followed.”

Sean had decided years ago his grandparents had the kind of love that couldn’t be found anymore. People had stopped learning how to love that way. For the most part his parents’ relationship wasn’t far off the mark. He couldn’t hope to ever share that kind of devotion with anyone.

“My grandparents were like that.” Amber scooted onto a stool at the kitchen’s center island. “My parents, too. I never really noticed until they retired and started traveling so much. It’s like they’ve fallen in love with each other all over again. My sister says she and Gina have that deep bond. I’m not so sure people our age know how to love like that. Maybe we can’t give so deeply.”

BOOK: Still Waters
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