ChasingShadows (23 page)

Deep sobs racked her from head to toe.

Chapter Thirteen

“Where’s Juliana?” Alex barked at James as he slammed into his
office. The door hit the wall and the wall clock clattered to the floor in a
dozen pieces. He had scoured the administration complex only to find Shelby
missing. The police tails had lost him hours ago. He booted the plastic clock
face. It scudded under his desk, clanged off the far wall and rested against a
desk leg.

“Sterling tailed her to her office. She’s parked out front. A
second officer just arrived on the scene.”

Apprehension ran roughshod over Alex’s fury. He glanced at
his watch. “What the hell is she doing at her office after nine?”

The phone buzzed and James snatched it up. Alex resumed his
predatory pacing. He mentally kicked himself for toying with the idea of using
Juliana at the ransom drop-off. She obviously had only picked up part of his
thoughts and had been too distraught to read the rest before he threw up his
mental shield. She would have remained safe, while he used a decoy in a blonde
wig. He’d die first before he let any harm come to Juliana.

“Alex. You listening?”

Alex blew the fog out of his mind. “What?”

“We have a match on the Jag and keychain. We’re tracking
addresses now.” James shoved a notepad at Alex. One name was written across the
pad.

Nicholas Hastings.

“Son of a bitch.” A cold knife of fear slashed through
Alex's gut. “He’s a client of Juliana’s.” Hastings knew where Juliana worked.

“A client?” James looked askance at Alex. “She didn’t
recognize him from her dreams?”

Alex bolted for the door, James hot on his heels.

“She never saw his face, only his eyes.”

“O’Malley! Westwood gave Sterling the slip.” The shout rang
out as soon as they hit the squad room.

James collided into Alex, nearly toppling them both to the
floor.

“Son of a bitch!” Alex roared as he spun around. “How the
hell did she slip through your fingers?”

Team member Detective Gilbert approached Alex. “Sterling
believes she went out the back. The janitors let Sterling inside her office. She
borrowed her secretary’s car and took off.”

“Find the make and model, issue an APB.” Alex tightened his
gun harness and clipped his cell phone to his belt. “When you obtain a solid
address on Hastings, call it in to me. The house we’re looking for is in the
country, probably not too far outside city limits.”

“Yes, sir.” Gilbert hustled off to his task.

“I should have gone after her myself.” Alex and James set
off at a jog toward the parking lot.

“You can’t do everything.” James pulled his car keys out, a
step ahead of Alex. “Lisette’s your first priority.”

“And I vowed to protect Juliana.” The words stuck in his
throat.

“You didn’t know this would happen.”

Alex halted at his SUV, gripping his keys so hard they dug painfully
into his palm. “I should have, with Shelby on a rampage.”

“We’ll find her.” James tossed his keys in a cup holder,
slid into the passenger seat, then plunked the red flashing light on the dash.

Alex shot a hard look at James as he jumped in the driver’s
seat and started the engine with one fluid motion. “I’ll kill him if he so much
as lays a finger on her.”

“Don’t go homicidal on me, man.”

“Do you love my sister and my niece?” Alex asked through
gritted teeth.

James didn’t hesitate. “You know I do.”

Alex swerved the SUV into traffic and gunned the gas pedal. “What
would you do if your girlfriend and niece were held captive by a madman who had
a hard-on the size of Florida?”

“I’d kill him.”

* * * * *

Juliana peered through the etched glass in her front door. The
house appeared undisturbed—at least from her limited view. The kidnapper
probably didn’t know where she lived yet. Her phone number and address were
unlisted. No one followed her. Yet she couldn’t shake the feeling of ants crawling
up her spine.

She exhaled a shaky breath. She’d get in and out in five
minutes flat.

The deadbolt gave her difficulty, as usual. She slipped into
the darkened foyer, leaving the lights off. Ice filled her veins as her fear of
the dark threatened to suffocate her. Strategically placed nightlights offered
a faint glow, which eased the shadowed corners, but not enough to erase her
panic.

The ants continued their relentless advance, but she willed
herself to move. Steadying her breathing, she raced up the stairs into her
bedroom. Another quick scan produced a fragmented sigh.

First things first. She scurried to the bed and fumbled
underneath it until she felt hard steel. The revolver was primed, loaded.

Juliana set the gun on the dresser and quickly changed into
more comfortable clothes and shoes. The gun became her final accessory as she
shoved it into the waistband of her jeans on her left hip, covering it with her
windbreaker. The weapon’s coldness penetrated through her T-shirt to her skin,
and she quaked from more than the cold.

An overnight bag was lodged on the top shelf of her closet,
and she yanked it down. Haphazardly, she packed clothes and toiletries for
several days of living incognito. Winded, she spun around toward the open
doorway. JB streaked into the room and leaped on the bed. His fur stood
straight up as if he had stuck his paw in a light socket.

“There you are!” She bent to scoop him off the bed and he
hissed like a cornered rattlesnake. “Don’t start with me, buster.” She snatched
up her bag and spun around.

And came to an abrupt halt.

JB wasn’t hissing at her, but at the blond intruder.

Amused gray eyes were fixated on her.

Juliana’s heart pounded as she stared at the motionless man
filling the doorway, blocking her escape. His eyes were similar to the gray
eyes that haunted her dreams. Yet nothing else about him was familiar, not even
an internal psychic awareness. Confusion and fear paralyzed her before she felt
JB scrambling in her arms. She released him, and he leaped to the floor.

Instinctively, she dropped the overnight bag and grabbed for
the gun at her waist.

As precise as a trained gunman, the intruder pulled a
revolver from a shoulder holster underneath his coat. He beat Juliana to the
draw. “I wouldn’t if I were you.” The blond man grinned.

Juliana didn’t shift a muscle while she glared at the
stranger. From the corner of her eye, she saw JB turn traitor and dive under
the bed. Sweat dampened the man’s face, and she sensed his excitement. The odor
revolted her, and she breathed through her mouth in order to control her terror.

Her thoughts were in turmoil as she frantically tried to
come up with a plan.

“What do you want?” she challenged him, stalling.

“Does it matter?” He eyed her speculatively.

Normally, she sensed evil when faced with one of her dream
criminals. But she didn’t feel it with this guy. She felt threatened, but no
malicious psychic connection. Confusion tightened its grip on her.

Surely the police knew she’d given them the slip by now. Wouldn’t
they track her at home? She could hope, but she couldn’t count on it.

Her mind was whirling a thousand miles a minute and she
wasn’t ready to thrust her telepathic block off to read his mind and determine
who he was. She had to keep him placated and talking, delaying him for as long
as possible.

She choked back her fear. “You’re not the kidnapper.” Stepping
back, her gaze didn’t waver off his face.

“Do I look like the sort who’d snatch a child from under her
mother’s nose?” He smiled and leaned his shoulder against the doorframe.

“What do you want?”

“We have a mutual acquaintance, Ms. Westwood. Although I
believe he’s more than an acquaintance to you.”

The holster, the precision with the gun, the suit. Shit! Shelby
from Internal Affairs? “You’re from IA, right?”

“Aren’t you a smart bitch?” His eyes narrowed in
disappointment, as if she’d ripped the glory out from under him.

Pushing away her telepathic block, she let his thoughts
prove her right. His mind barraged her with his smugness, from stealing Alex’s
report off Captain Hayes’ desk to revealing her identity to Channel 10 news.

Thank God. Alex hadn’t exposed her. How could she have even
thought it?

She gave a silent prayer that she could read the intruder. The
ability would give her an advantage. But his next thoughts almost dropped her
to her knees.

He intended to rape her. Then kill her.

“Slowly set the gun on the floor and slide it under the bed.”
He leveled his weapon at her heart.

She was no match for a gun-toting mad cop. Keeping an eye on
him, she bent and laid the gun on the carpet. As it slid away from her hand,
her heart skipped several anxious beats.

Straightening, she focused on his thoughts, his emotions. She
gleaned a depraved lust. A lust not necessarily for her, but for revenge. His
desire drove his actions and thoughts. He wanted Alex to pay. He even wished
he’d had the forethought to kidnap Lisette. Underneath it all, Juliana sensed
hesitancy. She latched onto that pebble.

“You’re the psychic calling the shots?” He cocked his head
and eyed her appraisingly, then leeringly. “I bet MacKenzie loved having you
beside him while chasing clues to his niece’s kidnapper.” The smile widened on
his face.

Juliana cringed at the direction his thoughts veered, her
knees nearly losing their feeble hold. He really meant to rape her.
Oh God,
no
, she wailed silently. Where were the police? Frantic, she attempted to
call out to Alex with her mind, but emptiness met her. She suspected he had no
ability to read anyone but his sister, and likely only from close range.

“Please, you don’t want to do this. Why go to all this
trouble?” Juliana backed up until the back of her knees butted against the bed,
her arms locked to her sides. “I’ll give you whatever you want. Just let me go
and we can keep this between us.”

“What I want is for you to take off your clothes and lie on
the bed.” Excitement gleamed in his eyes, but his smile faded. He dug a small
packet out of his coat pocket and tossed it on the bed. The neon-green condom
contrasted sharply with the eggplant-purple and gold comforter. “I’m going to
show you how a real man can satisfy you. Then we’ll talk about what else you
can give me.”

His thoughts scurried all over the place. He honestly held
Alex responsible for his fiancée’s death and his demotion.

“Look, I have a trust fund.”

He waved the gun at her. “Clothes off.” He shut the door and
advanced into the room. “By the way, you might want to fix the deadbolt on your
front door.”

Fix it? How could she fix it if she were dead? “You can rot
in Hell.” The words slipped out.

A crazed laugh shook his shoulders, the sound resonating in
Juliana’s ears. “You should thank me for giving you your fifteen minutes of
fame today.” Pointing the gun at her heart, he demanded again, “Take them off.”

Juliana slowly slipped off her shoes. Her hands shook as she
shrugged her jacket onto the floor. While she unbuttoned her jeans, she glanced
surreptitiously around the room. A silver letter opener on her night table
captured her attention.

Shelby practically drooled while she kicked off her pants,
leaving her underwear on. Her gaze skimmed the opening of his jacket at the
hard bulge in his crotch.

Panic slammed her—big-time.

Tears welled in her eyes. “Please don’t. I’ll give you
anything else. The police will be here any minute.”

What am I saying? He’s the freaking police! Get a grip
and think!

Perspiration dotted his forehead. He tugged at the neck of
his shirt, loosening his tie, unbuttoning the top buttons. “Don’t count on it. With
MacKenzie primary, they couldn’t find their way out of a beer bottle.”

She prattled on to catch him off guard. “What do you have
against Alex?”

In three long strides, he stood in front of her. With the
gun in one hand, a crimson savage glare on his face, he pushed her on the bed.

Falling backward gave her a slight advantage. She kicked out
with all her strength and caught him on the thigh, inches short of her target.

Howling with rage, he lunged for her. Fully on top of her
now, he pinned her to the bed. He shoved the gun against her temple and
screamed at her, “Knock it off, cunt, or I’ll drill another eye in your face!”
Fury contorted his features.

Juliana ceased struggling. Fighting back the sour
malevolence wedged in her throat, she breathed in his ashtray-stinking breath.

While he worked at his zipper, she furtively inched her hand
along the bed, reaching for the night table.

But she was several feet too short. Terror immobilized her
with the gun barrel jammed into her skull. “I’ll cooperate. Just don’t hurt
me.”

“Hurt you?” He stopped his movements and stared at her as if
she’d lost her mind. “I’m going to make you feel so good, you’ll beg for more.”

“Okay.” She swallowed the bitterness in her mouth. “Can we
move up to the pillows and get more comfortable?”

“Now that’s more like it.” He spat the words in her face.

He actually thought she was willing. Yet he made no move to
slide up the bed. He continued his one-handed struggles with his pants while
his vile body smothered her.

Eyes closed to shut out the horror, she prayed in silence. Seconds
crawled by, and it felt like forever. She didn’t know how long she lay there
while he fumbled with his clothes before a sound near the door caught her
attention.

As if in answer to her prayers, Juliana heard the blunt
striking sound of something solid hitting skin and bones. The intruder’s
movements ceased, and his heavy body slumped like a dead weight on top of her. The
gun dropped on the mattress beside her ear, the barrel pointed at the headboard.

Relief surged through her, and she cried out, “Alex?”