Pierced: Pierced Trilogy Boxed Set (27 page)

We’re quiet for a while until finally, I realize that I need to start getting ready for work. “Well, I had better get a move on if I’m going to get to work on time,” I say quietly, still feeling unsure of his last statement. “I’ll see you this evening?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you this evening,” he repeats distractedly. “Samantha,” he says urgently, trying to catch me before I hang up.

“Yes, Josh?”

He pauses briefly and then says, “I miss you too.” He hangs up then, leaving me reeling. Did he really just say that? Did I hear him correctly?

I hang up my phone and go about my morning routine in a daze. I shower and dress quickly in a chocolate brown pencil skirt and matching Louboutin pumps and a soft, pale green blouse, and drive to the museum completely lost in thought. Josh said he misses me! And I can’t help but wonder if maybe he’s feeling the same way I am.
How are you feeling, Sam?
It’s another really good question my subconscious is asking, and I’m afraid to respond. Not because I don’t know the answer but … because I’m scared that I do. And I know that it’s way too soon for me to be feeling this way, isn’t it? I mean, I just met this man. But I already know that I’m falling for him. I’ve known it since the moment he first kissed me on my balcony. He is under my skin … just like the song playing on my iPod is saying right now, and I will do whatever it takes to be with him.

“
Oh, my God,”
I think to myself as I pull into a parking space outside the museum.
“I am falling in love with him.”
The thought is both terrifying and joyous and I know that this is crazy. I’ve barely known him a week! I hardly know him at all but, he is the sweetest, most amazing man and I want nothing more than to be with him and to get to know him completely. I want to know everything about him. Even the parts that he’s reluctant to tell me for some reason. And I find myself wondering again for the hundredth time why he’s so reluctant to open up to me.

But I sigh and roll my eyes at myself as I’m getting out of my car to head into the building. Of course I know why he’s reluctant to open up to me; he told me himself last night. This is all new to him. He’s never done the relationship thing before and he admitted that the very idea scares the hell out of him. I have to remember that! No matter how eager I might be to rush right in, I have to remember that he’s scared and just feeling his way. And it wouldn’t hurt me to slow down either. After all, I have never had a sexual relationship before Josh. So maybe my feelings are so profound because I’m clouded by all the sex.
All the incredible, deliciously mind-blowing sex!
I blush and fan myself slightly as I enter the building.

*****

My morning seems to drag on as I sit in a small meeting room and listen to Carol Warden, one of the museum educators, as she lectures on the different collections of the Pryor Museum and certain talking points that every docent should be pointing out for each specific work. I try to concentrate on her every word but, it’s not easy. Especially since I know that I’ve got three more of these lectures to sit through this week and since I’ve been frequenting this museum since I was a small child. I was practically raised to do this job. I could probably give these tours in my sleep. But I’m not so smug to think that I know all there is to know about this job so, I really do try to pay attention. But my mind keeps wandering back to Josh and I wonder what he’s doing and if he’s thinking about me.

Two hours later, I am out of the meeting room and wandering around the museum shadowing Nicole, one of the experienced docents, as she gives a private tour to a small contingent of elderly patrons. I watch with interest as she gets them talking about a Fritz Baer landscape and skillfully answers their questions with both charm and humor. She has them eating out of the palm of her hand and I am impressed with her technique. I think I can learn a lot from shadowing her for the next several days and I’m suddenly more excited than ever about my new position.

We turn and head into another section of the museum and, as we do, I suddenly become aware of the sensation of being watched. I try to ignore it as I continue to shadow Nicole, listening intently as she begins to talk about the next work on her tour. Unable to help myself, I slowly begin to glance around at the other patrons in the museum. Looking off to my right, I see nothing out of the ordinary: a couple of moms trying to corral a handful of exuberant toddlers, a small group of college students wandering around with notebooks in hand – clearly trying to complete a school assignment. I glance slowly off to my left and see pretty much the same crowd. But that feeling that I’m being watched doesn’t go away.

Nicole moves her group off to yet another section and I follow dutifully. As I do, I get the creepiest feeling running up my spine and I turn suddenly, looking around frantically but, I see nothing.
You’re being very silly, Sam.
My subconscious smirks at me and I know that she’s probably right. What could possibly happen to me at work? I’m in a public place with dozens of people, for heaven’s sake. I shake my head and turn around, walking quickly to catch up with my group.

When I get there, Nicole is in full swing talking about the next work and she gives me a slight puzzled frown as she continues. I mouth silently that I’m sorry and try to make myself pay attention to what she’s saying but, my heart is racing and my breathing is shallow. Something is wrong, I can feel it. That sensation of being watched is even stronger now and I glance out of the corners of my eyes to both the left and the right. I don’t know what I’m looking for. Or who. But I know that I’m not crazy. Someone is watching me and I’m scared half to death.

I know that I should just keep my focus on Nicole and what she’s saying but I can’t concentrate. I look off to the right again and see nothing strange.
You’re being ridiculous, Samantha!
My subconscious screams again but, I ignore her. I am not imagining this. I look off to my left and, as I do, I catch a fleeting glimpse of a man, not ten yards away from me, as he turns and heads for the museum entrance. I stare at him as he walks quickly in the opposite direction and my racing heart triples in speed and my lungs momentarily forget how to work. I am frozen to the spot watching helplessly as he reaches the main entrance and exits quickly through the front doors. I still can’t say for certain what his face looked like, but what I am sure of, is that he sported the flaming heart tattoo on the right side of his neck!

“Samantha?”

I yelp and jump about a foot when I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn, clutching my chest and I can feel the tears threatening to spill over onto my cheeks. “Are you all right?” Nicole asks me, her voice full of concern.

“I’m so sorry, Nicole,” I begin tearfully. “I think I just saw the man who attacked me!”

“Oh, my God! Sam, are you sure?” she asks me incredulously and I nod frantically. “You should call the police,” she says insistently. “Do you think he’s following you?”

At her words, I fall apart completely, hiding my face in my hands as I begin to sob. She puts an arm around me and quickly leads me down to the large employee break room and sits me down.

“Samantha, I’m calling 911,” she says, taking out her cell phone.

“No,” I say, placing my hand on her phone, and she looks at me wide eyed. “I have the number for the detective who’s been working on my case,” I tell her. “It’ll be easier to just call him.” I take my cellphone out of my pocket and, as Nicole stands to go get me a cup of water, I call Josh.

Just like this morning, he answers my call on the first ring, and I can hear his smile as he greets me. His voice is low, as if he’s trying to avoid being overheard. “Hi, Sunshine.”

“Josh.” My voice is small and tearful and I notice that my hands are shaking.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” he says in that ‘take-charge’ tone of his.

“He was here,” I sob. “The man with the tattoo.”

“What?” He practically yells and I can tell that he’s instantly agitated. “There, at the museum? You’re sure?” My only response is another small sob. “I will be right there,” he says with an air of determination.

“Okay,” I manage, and he hangs up while I sit with my head in my hands as Nicole sits quietly with me.

Chapter Fourteen

Joshua

“Fuck,” I mutter as I put my cellphone in my pocket and stand up, gathering my jacket as Conner looks up at me questioningly. “There’s been some action in the Colby case,” I tell him. “She thinks she just saw the creep in the museum.”

He gets to his feet and hurries out after me. “I thought she couldn’t identify him,” he says as we exit the station and rush out to the car.

“She saw the tattoo,” I tell him, climbing into the car. We ride in silence for a few blocks and my mind can’t help conjuring up an image of the way she looked this morning, curled up in my arms. And I swallow reflexively as I remember the small wave of fear that washed over me this morning after I made love to her. I frown at the memory now – buried deep inside her and completely lost in her hypnotic green eyes as my epiphany from the night before came glaring back at me.

I need her!

The moment had me thinking thoughts and dreaming dreams that terrified me. That’s when I got up and headed to the shower, just to get a little distance from her for a few minutes. I stood beneath the water scared half to death of the things I was feeling. The things I’m still feeling.

I need her!

The revelation from last night won’t leave me alone. I haven’t been able to shake it all morning and I feel like I’m running from it. Yes, I needed her last night, at that moment. I needed her so much. But that was last night, and this is a new day. So why can’t I get that thought out of my head? Why is it still whispering to me?

Concentrate on your job, Pierce!
My job. Yeah, concentrate on the job. Samantha sounded so scared on the phone just now. The thought of some asshole being out there, terrorizing her, possibly following her around, wanting to harm her in some way. Makes my fucking blood boil. And I know without a doubt in my mind that once we catch this guy I will take great pleasure in beating the living shit out of him.

“So what did her phone call say?” Conner asks me, cutting through my wayward thoughts.

“Just that she thought she saw the guy,” I answer curtly. “I didn’t ask her for details over the phone because she sounded upset. Thought we’d do better in person. Plus, we may get lucky and someone else at the museum may have seen him.”

He nods and is silent the rest of the short ride over to the Pryor Museum, and it suddenly dawns on me that I am going to have to walk a very thin line once we get there. I’m going to have to present a very professional face with Sam since Conner will be watching my every move. The last thing I want to do is give him cause to worry about my objectivity. I hope Sam understands and follows my lead.

When we enter the building, I show my badge to the security guard near the door and tell him that we’re looking for Miss Samantha Colby. We are ushered through the museum and into an area marked employees only, and on to a large cafeteria-type employee lunch room. There are a few museum employees scattered at a couple of tables on one side of the room and I glance to the left and see Samantha sitting despondently at a small square table in the corner. There is an attractive African American young woman sitting with her and she appears to be offering moral support. They both look up as we walk toward them and Sam’s eyes brighten when they lock with mine. I pierce her with a serious expression, trying to convey a message as my eyes burn into hers.

“Hello, Miss Colby,” I say intently, purposely speaking first, before she has a chance to.

She blinks for a moment, and I can tell my message has been delivered. “Detective Pierce,” she says softly, glancing nervously at Conner.

“This is my partner, Detective Conner,” I say as we both pull out chairs and sit at the table. I sit beside her, close enough that I could reach out and wipe her tears but, I don’t dare. This is going to be harder than I thought.

“Hello,” she says softly, acknowledging Conner.

“Miss Colby,” he says, all business. Then he turns to the young woman sitting with Sam and asks, “And you are?”

“My name is Nicole Johnson,” she responds. “I work here with Samantha.”

“Miss Johnson, would you give us a few minutes please,” Conner tells her. “But don’t go far. We’ll want to speak with you before we leave.”

She nods and gets up to move over to another table, and I’d like to tell Conner to go ahead and question her on his own, leaving me with Samantha but, I know it would raise his suspicions since he’s already accused me of getting too involved here.

I turn my attention to Sam and she looks so incredibly sad, I just want to take her into my arms and tell her everything’s going to be all right. Her lovely face is tear streaked and her hands fidget with a worn out tissue.

“Miss Colby,” I begin, trying to will myself not to touch her as I take my notepad and pen out of my inner jacket pocket. “Can you tell us what happened today?” My eyes meet hers and she looks at me imploringly. As if she’s begging me to hold her.
Shit.
I watch helplessly as her eyes begin to swim, and big tears spill over onto her cheeks. I close my eyes, feeling my heart constrict and my jaw tighten. I am desperate to touch her, to reassure her, but I know that Conner is watching us like a hawk. I steal a glance at him and he is looking at me with a puzzled expression, no doubt reading our body language astutely. It’s what we’re trained to do, after all. Finally, I can’t take it anymore and I reach into my pocket and pull out a handkerchief. I place it into her hands, lightly giving her a covert, reassuring squeeze as I do.

She looks up when my hand touches hers and when our eyes meet, she breaks down, burying her face in my handkerchief as she sobs.
Fuck.
I can feel myself lean in closer to her, but I stop myself just short of touching her and pull back. Finding it difficult to watch her cry, I look helplessly down at the table for a few seconds. When I look up at Conner, he is eyeing me with obvious suspicion. He smirks at me and gives a slight shake of his head and a disgusted roll of his eyes. Finally, he motions to Sam, raising his eyebrows at me as if to say ‘well do something, you stupid fuck,’ and I know that we’re not fooling him.