Profile of Terror (24 page)

"Have you told Justin Andrews about Destiny's death?"  Gabe asked his brother.

"I didn't have to," said Cameron.  "After you left, he rammed his car through the barricade by the road and pushed down two of my deputies who were trying to stop him from getting to the veranda.  Bryan and I tried to keep him from her body, but he was so pumped with adrenaline, he cannon-balled us to get to her."

"Oh, shit."

"It was the worst thing I've ever seen.  Justin threw his arms around the rocking chair where Destiny's body was propped and wouldn't let go of her.  The man was hysterical," said Cameron.  "It took two deputies, Bryan, and me, to get him to let go of Destiny and the chair.  Bryan gave him something to calm him down, and I walked him to his truck.  We sat inside talking for a good thirty minutes.  Then he went with me to tell Destiny's parents."

Just then, Kaitlyn appeared on the front porch, dragging behind her two large pieces of luggage.

"Looks like you talked her into moving into the main house."

"After her house was shot up, it didn't take much persuading."

"Don't blame her."

Running to the porch, Gabe secured the luggage.  "Cam, this is Kaitlyn Reece.  Kaitlyn, this is my brother, Cam."

"Hi, Cam.  Welcome to our shooting." Kaitlyn made an attempt at a smile.  "You two look a lot alike.  One could certainly tell you are brothers."

"So I'm told.  It's good to meet you, Kaitlyn. Wish it were under better circumstances."

Gabe led her to the garage, where he opened the door and packed the luggage into her car.  He helped her into the passenger side, and then got behind the steering wheel after he pushed the seat back as far as it would go.  VWs like Kaitlyn's weren't designed for big men like himself.  He felt the metal Matchbox car in his pocket rest against his thigh.  Turning the key in the ignition, he glanced at Kaitlyn and thought of how he longed to see his Cat again.  He pulled her to him and kissed her soundly and quickly on the lips.  "I'll keep you safe, Kaitlyn."  Losing her again was not going to happen.  Not on his watch.

<><><> 

Evan crept across the dining room and into the family room where his father's gun collection was kept in a gleaming mahogany gun cabinet.  Unlocking the cabinet door with the key he'd found in the top drawer of his father's dresser, he quickly but carefully placed the AK-47 in its place among the nine other guns his father had collected.  A creaking sound in the floor startled him, and he spun around until he was face-to-face with Devan.

"What the fuck is going on?  Where have you been with Dad's AK-47?  Are you suicidal or just stupid?"  Devan demanded.

"Be quiet before you wake up everyone in the house."

Evan locked the cabinet, slipped the key in his pocket, and climbed the stairs to his bedroom, with Devan close on his heels.

"You didn't answer me.  What were you doing with the old man's assault rifle?"

"I was shooting rats at the old junkyard," Evan lied.  Who knew what Devan would do to him if he found out he'd been to Kaitlyn Reece's house and used the rifle to give her a good scare.  It was a bonus that Gabe Chase had been there.  Not that Devan would get that.  Not that he'd ever tell Devan about it.

"Since when do you shoot rats at the junkyard without me?" asked Devan suspiciously.

"You were at football practice, and I didn't want to wait until you got home."

"Next time, wait for me."

"Is that an order?  Since when do I need a chaperone?"

"Since I say you do," barked Devan, as he drilled his index finger into Evan's chest.

"Sure, whatever you say, Devan."  The last thing he needed was for his anger-ball brother to go ballistic and wake up his parents.  The punishment for being out this late would be grounding for a month with no access to his cell phone, laptop or any other electronic device.  Who knows what his militaristic father would do to him if he found out he took his prized AK-47 from the gun cabinet without permission.

<><><> 

Gabe sat on the bed in the suite Kaitlyn chose and watched her unpack.  One-by-one she pulled out each article of clothing and hung it neatly in the closet.

"Am I safe in here unpacking?" Kaitlyn asked.

"Yes, why?"

"I was just wondering why you were guarding me."

Gabe pulled out the Matchbox car, holding it in the palm of his hand.

Kaitlyn snatched it from him. "What are you doing with this?  Did you take it from my bookcase?"

"It's a great replica of a Pontiac Firebird.  Where did you get it?"

"I can't remember.  I just know I've had it since the second grade. I asked my mom about it.  But she doesn't know where I got it.  She said I refused to let go of it, even in the hospital as they wheeled me to the operating room."

Kaitlyn turned to place the toy car on the top of her dresser.

"Cat?"

Hearing her old nickname, she whirled around.  "Why did you call me that?"

"I started calling you 'Cat' in the second grade.  When my school bus passed your house, there was always a cat in every window.  So Cat became my pet name for you."

"You knew me in the second grade?"   Kaitlyn asked, bewildered.

Gabe nodded and then asked, "May I see your toy car?  I want to show you something."

Handing him the car, she sat next to him on the bed and watched as he turned the car to show her its underside.  "My brother, Brody, used a nail to scratch the letter 'C' for Chase on all of our metal Matchbox cars and trucks.  This isn't just any Matchbox car.  It's a 1976 Pontiac Firebird in metallic blue, exactly like the one my mom drove in high school. 
I
gave this to you, Cat.  You were my best friend in the second grade, and I've been missing you since the day you were taken away from the schoolyard in an ambulance."

Sadness entered Kaitlyn's eyes as she gazed at him, along with a vulnerability he hadn't seen before.  "I wish I could remember you.  There were all sorts of things I couldn't remember after the surgery.  But you shouldn't have been one of them.  I think, subconsciously, I remember our friendship.  Mom said I was fierce about the toy car.  A nurse tried to take it from me before they wheeled me into the operating room and I bit her."

Gabe liked the thought that something he'd given to her, even in the second grade, meant that much to her.  He could feel the warmth of her body as she pressed against him, placing her small hand in his.

"Mom said everyone thought Ralphie Smith had seriously injured me when he pushed me down."

"I did, too. That's why I picked a fight with him and he kicked my seven-year-old ass."

"Oh, Gabe, it wasn't his fault," Kaitlyn began.  "His mother brought Ralphie to the hospital to make him apologize.  I had a mild concussion, but that isn't why I passed out. It was far more serious than that.  I had what is called an atrial septal defect."

"What's that?"

"Basically, it's a hole in the heart.  Many children have them, but mine was large and was negatively impacting my health.  My doctors felt it was best if they performed open heart surgery to stitch it closed." 

Kaitlyn paused for a second, and then stood before him, pulling her shirt up over her head to reveal a long white scar that ran from just under the hollow in her throat, to in-between, and below her breasts.  "That's how I got this."

"Cat, I'm sorry." Gabe took a deep, cleansing breath to soothe the apprehension that filled him as he thought of how close he'd come to losing her forever. 

"Why didn't you say anything about it when we made love?"

Lightly running his finger down the scar, he said, "I didn't notice it.  If I had, I would have told you how beautiful I think it is.  Without the surgery, you might not be with me now.  Your scar tells the story that you survived.  And for that I will be forever grateful."

With his large hands, Gabe encircled her waist, pulling her closer until she stood between his legs as he sat on the bed.  Removing her bra, he dropped it to the floor, and then removed her panties.  He trailed light kisses from the beginning of the scar to the ending, his hot breath softly fanning her skin.  Burying her hands in his thick hair, she sighed with pleasure.  There was no fighting her overwhelming need to touch him, to be close to his warmth.  Her body ached for his touch.

Standing, Gabe reclaimed her lips, one hand on her back and the other on her bottom, crushing her soft body against him, building a fiery heat that rushed through her like a forest fire. His tongue traced the soft fullness of her lips and explored the recesses of her mouth until her every cell erupted with a need.  Gabe effortlessly picked her up and laid her gently on the bed. 

He began a slow and sexy strip tease as he lifted his shirt above his head and tossed it aside, revealing a broad chest, muscled arms, and impressive biceps without an ounce of fat. His body radiated strength, determination and heat.  She lay there on her back watching him, wanting him. He pulled a foil packet from his pocket and laid it on the table.  As if in slow motion, he unzipped his jeans, kicked off his shoes, and pushed his pants to the floor until he was completely naked.  Stretching out alongside her, he kissed her until she was drunk with desire.

Balancing himself on his elbows, he hovered above her, kissing her with his entire body, igniting a bone-melting fire that spread through her blood.  He took the foil packet from the table, opened it with his teeth, and covered himself.  His fingers found the nub of her passion as his steel drove into her.  Then he pumped and thrust, rocking her hips, sending her into a heated frenzy from which she thought she may not recover.  Shaking with desire, he groaned as she clung to him desperately, as they tumbled over the last edge of pleasure, unable to wait another second. 

He whispered something in his low, sexy voice as he planted gentle kisses on her face and neck, before he rolled off her.  He lay next to her, pulling the sheet to their waists, when she asked, "What was it you whispered to me?"

He grasped her face and held it gently, kissing her slowly and thoughtfully.  "I love you, Cat.  I don't think it's too soon to tell you.  I think I've loved you since I was seven-years-old."

<><><> 

"I hear we have another victim," said Bradley Lucas, as he entered Brody's office without knocking.  Bradley plopped down in one of the visitor's chairs in front of Brody's desk and waited for an answer, as if he had asked a question.

"Hello to you, too, Mr. Lucas," Brody offered sarcastically.

Bradley Lucas was the county commission president, making him the sheriff's direct supervisor.  He could be a horse's ass when he wanted to, throwing his weight around like an Army general.

"I thought our agreement was that you brief me immediately after the event.  Why did I find out we have another murder on our hands from the morning news?"