Deadly Abandon (12 page)

“Listen, if I’d been with you, where I was supposed to be, it never would have happened. I give you my word, Bree…I won’t let you down again.”

But, even as he said the words, a nagging doubt wouldn’t let go. How had the killer known she would be at the arena today? He must have known in advance to carry out such an elaborate scheme to kill her. Hell, the psycho had trucked in the rats to take her down.

Sully’s insides quaked, his brain shifting to warrior mode. This was one hell of a diabolical killer.

****

Breeana checked her appearance in the visor mirror, twisted her hair into a clip on top of her head and pinched her cheeks to draw some color back into her face. She still looked like “death warmed over” as her mother used to say. But it could have been so much worse. If Sully hadn’t rescued her, she would have ended up as hamburger meat, with very little of her body left for anyone to identify.

From all outward appearances, she didn’t look half bad, but terror still churned on the inside, making it hard to breathe. She needed to get home and pull herself together. The off ramp to Mallard Bay flew by the window at a hundred clicks per hour. “Hey! You missed the exit. Where are we going?”

“I thought we’d eat out tonight.”

“What?” She was incredulous. Had the recent events not phased Sully one iota? “How can you think of your stomach at a time like this?”

“It’s easy, Bree, with a beautiful woman at my side and a romantic city like Montreal at our disposal. Besides, you need time to calm down and we need to talk before we go back to the house. Jack and Cody are fine without us for a few hours. The uniforms outside the house will keep them safe.”

Breeana folded her arms across her chest and silently counted to ten. “Sully, I don’t want to talk about anything right now. I just want to go home.”

“Why? So you can bury your head in the sand again? Not anymore, cookie.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake. You’re being ridiculous.”

He glanced over at her. She tried to gauge his expression but his mirrored shades tossed back her own reflection. Truth be told, she was more ticked off at herself than she was at him. Because he was right.

Despite her reluctance, he parked in the old quarter of the city. Then he plastered her to his side with an arm banding her waist as they strode the cobblestone streets to a popular café. Once inside, Sully pointed to a table in a far corner and tipped the maître d’ to seat them there. They ordered drinks to start, followed by rack of lamb for both of them. They didn’t speak until the waiter returned with their drink orders.

Sully held her hands in both of his, stroking her wrists with his thumbs until the shaking subsided in her fingers. She could see the raw concern in his eyes. “Are you all right?”

“Perhaps after two or three more of these strawberry daiquiris.” Her attempt at a joke came out flat. Nothing could erase the horror of being locked inside the locker room with those rats. Worse than that, her fear of the man who wanted to kill her whipped through her body. If it wasn’t for Sully, she
would
be dead. “I’m glad you’re the designated driver.”

“Hey, anytime.” She watched him nurse his beer while scanning the other occupants of the restaurant over the rim of his glass. His gaze was cold and calculating as he assessed every face and every nuance of movement in the crowd. Tenseness gripped his shoulders as his gaze touched on hers then moved away again to land on another couple waiting to be seated. “I’d like to run something by you, if you’re up to it.”

He frightened her with his constant surveillance of the people around her, as if the maniac might have followed them there. “If it’s not good news, I don’t want to hear it.”

“Too bad.” His strong fingers brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Then he cupped her chin in his hand and forced her to meet his gaze. “The attack on you at the arena was too damn close for comfort. So, now you’re going to do things my way, because until the killer is caught, your life isn’t worth spit.”

“I don’t think”

“Just hear me out. I know you don’t want to go into protective custody and I understand. You and Cody have a life, and you want to keep it as normal as possible. But, if you won’t go into hiding, you need around-the-clock protection. I won’t risk the freak getting near you again, Bree.”

“I know you’re right, but I don’t want to frighten my son by changing our routine. Or give the psycho the satisfaction of seeing me running scared. Isn’t there a chance he’ll back off now and leave me alone?”

“Are you willing to bet your life on it? Or Cody’s? My gut says he’ll keep on coming until he gets it right.” Sully took a small sip from his pilsner glass and laughed. It was a chilling sound, one without humor. “Wake up before it’s too late. This isn’t some fairytale where you get to write your own ending. You’re the one who got away, remember?
Twice
. You’re also the
only
one to spoil his fantasy for him. And you’re the one he is determined to destroy. It’s a matter of pride for him now.”

Chills slid up her back and slithered back down again. “Are you expecting him to jump out of the woodwork and finish me off, for heaven’s sake?”

“Oh, he can try. It’s one of the reasons I’m handling your protection personally.” He leaned on the table and threaded his fingers through hers across the round expanse of linen. “But that’s only the professional reason. We both know there’s something heating up between us. I care about you, Bree, more than I should. I can’t be with you to protect you all the time, not if I’m going to oversee the investigation. So, I’m bringing in some people to keep you safe.

“And, after I catch the psycho? I’d like the chance to get to know you a whole lot better. I don’t mean I only want to sleep with you. That’s just part of the reason…and I’m willing to wait on that score.”

Breeana thought about the sultry feelings he stirred inside her. She wondered if she dared risk having her heart broken by any man again, especially by this man who thrived in the danger zone. A man terrified of intimacy. A man she was attracted to.

Yes, I dare. Life is for the living, after all.

Tom had died over two years ago. She knew he wouldn’t want her living in the isolated vacuum she had cocooned herself in. It was time to let go and move on. Removing her wedding band, she gazed at Sully and tucked it inside her purse. The twinkle in his dark eyes at her action warmed her insides.

“I’d like the chance to get to know you better, too. Now, who are these people you want to protect me?”

“They are members of my Special Ops squad. We’re a reserve unit now and I can get some men together to help out. I trust them with my life, Bree, and I trust them to take care of you and Cody. They are trained to handle these situations far better than any police force. They won’t let this guy get to you.”

Breeana gasped, the reality of her situation finally sinking in. She tipped her chin. “So, what do we do now?”

Sully met her gaze and held it. “
We
do nothing.
I
call in my team to keep you safe.”

Chapter Eight

The Shepherd stood beneath a wide canopy of maple trees, gazing at the river where it churned over the rocks.

Beside him, the tournament official pulled out his wallet, added the bills he’d given him, and slipped it back inside his jacket. Uncapping a hip flask, the man chuckled before taking a deep swallow. Excitement flared when he recounted his part in capturing Breeana. “I only paid the kid ten bucks to hook her son and plow him headfirst into the net. And you shudda seen the broad. She went squirrelly when I said her boy was puking his guts out. She raced for those stairs like a house on f—”

The Shepherd had heard enough. The man would be bragging from a barstool first chance he got, so proud of what he’d done.

Palming the knife, he flicked it open on the upswing and brought it across. With one slash, steel met flesh. A clean slice opened at the official’s throat, and he gagged, choking on his own blood. The Shepherd watched, enjoying the show as the man toppled forward in the river. He twitched in the shallows a moment before the undertow dragged him into deeper water.

With a hum, The Shepherd crouched, swished the blade in the river to clean off the blood, and dried it on the grass. Folding the KA-BAR, he slipped it into his cargo pants while scanning the area around him.

The lights of the town on the far shore lit the dark horizon. Nothing moved, only a breeze skimming the river. It filled his mouth with the taste of dead fish and raw sewage. He spat and swiped a hand across his lips. He’d chosen the right spot to do the sinner. The man was human waste at its finest.

The body floated farther out and finally caught the rapids. It bucked and rolled in white water and disappeared…about time. He needed to haul ass before someone spotted him. They’d find Breeana soon and all hell would break loose.

The crowd’s roar melded with the music blasting through the arena doors some fifty meters behind him.
We Will Rock You
blared between hockey plays in short, staccato bursts.

He
rocked tonight.
He
was the champ. He wanted inside the building so bad he got hard just thinking about it. But once Sauvage found Breeana’s bloody body and sounded the alarm? The place would be locked down tighter than a prison yard and crawling with cops.

So yeah, as much as he wanted in there to see her corpse and his handiwork, he’d have to take a pass.

The parking lot was deserted with everyone still inside watching the on-ice action. Reaching the sedan, The Shepherd cranked the key and drove toward the bridge leading to the highway and Mallard Bay. He hummed his favorite hymn which poured through the speakers and thought about his work tonight.

Hoo-rah, two fist pumps in the air for two perfectly orchestrated killings. The first—God’s will, and the other—well, it was God’s will, too. Taking money to lure Breeana to her death was wrong, a mortal sin. The man had deserved killing.

God as his witness, The Shepherd thought he deserved a medal for what he’d done tonight, but knew he’d have to settle for a six-pack and a movie instead. A horror flick that guaranteed thrills and chills with Breeana in the starring role. Maybe not as satisfying as being live on the set to hear her screams and see the carnage first-hand, but he would deal.

He wondered if Sauvage was attacked by the rats when he sprang the door to the locker room. If the rats got by him, they would make their way to the spectator stands and cause a bloody stampede. A lot of God fearing people could get hurt if it happened. He hoped the cop was smart enough to contain the problem before it reached the innocent.

He glanced at the clock on the dash, his heart pounding. Another thirty minutes, and he’d be sprawled in front of the wide screen. He’d watch Breeana die tonight—in HD with sound surround. And he’d relive the moment over and over again.

It is God’s will, Breeana…God’s will.

****

Sully snagged Breeana by the elbow and nudged her into an alcove at the bar’s entrance as he answered his cell phone. “Talk to me.”

“The Crime Scene Unit just left.” Sergeant Millette waited out the sound system booming in the background before continuing. “They found cameras transmitting live video feed from the locker room.”

“Son of a bitch.” Sully’s excitement spiked. He fought to keep his voice even, didn’t want to get Breeana’s hopes up. “Did they leave the cameras in place?”

“Better than that, they acted like they never saw them. Pinheads in the walls, nothing more. The signal’s still active and our geek squad’s tracking it now. There’s an IP anonymizer on the link, but our guys say they can crack the code if the connection stays open for another minute or two. It shouldn’t be long now.”

The bastard may not know it yet, but once they traced the IP address they’d have his location—and his balls to the wall. Yeah, Sully loved the geek gods. They’d work their magic and get him what he needed.

He winked at Breeana and held up a finger to ward off her questions. “Millette, I want the address and a warrant ASAP. Drag a judge out of bed if you have to. And notify Tactical Response. We’ll need them for the takedown. I don’t want him slipping through our fingers.”

“It’s already in the works, Lieutenant. SWAT’s standing by and our guys are heading in now. I sent Sanchez to sit on the judge. He’ll have the warrant as soon as we have an address.”

“Let me know the instant you hear. We move on my command. Nice work.” He closed the connection.

“You want to tell me what’s happening?” Breeana pushed out of the entryway and onto the sidewalk. A death grip on his hand, she tugged, pulling him behind her, closing the distance to the Tahoe. He hit the remote and lifted her onto the passenger seat. “Do you have a lead?”

Sully slid behind the steering wheel and fired up the engine, trying not to think about how good it had felt with his hands wrapped around her slim waist. “I’ll fill you in later. Right now I need to get you home.”

“No…no, you don’t.” She drew in a steadying breath as he pulled into traffic and lightly touched his arm. “Right now you need to be with your squad, Sully. You’re waiting on an address and you don’t have time to drop me anywhere. I’m going with you.”

Sully’s eyes narrowed as he mulled over his options.

Damn, she makes sense.
Time was the enemy and he had none to spare. Still, he couldn’t protect her on a takedown, wouldn’t take the chance on something going wrong. “I’ll radio a squad car and transfer you to them on route.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Now wait just a—”

“I don’t have time to argue with you, Bree.” The stubborn woman didn’t know when to quit. She’d been through hell tonight and acted like she wanted more of the same. Or maybe she felt safer with him. Hard to tell, but either way, he wasn’t buying.

His cell phone buzzed and he punched speaker. Millette rattled off the address, a warehouse in Mallard Bay on the waterfront near the pier. Sully disconnected, hit the bar lights and siren, and booted it for the highway. Speed dialing the MBPD, he requested a unit meet him at the off ramp to transfer Breeana to them. They could take her home where she’d be safe and out of the line of fire.