Serial (12 page)

Cutting her off, I said, “I agree. However, I’m still interested in a name if you can give it to me.”

Shrugging, she shoved the card in her pocket. “Fine. I’ll let you know when I know.”

“Thank you.”

I was done. There was nothing more here that would help me in my hunt for a madman. Frustration shot through me at his continued ability to elude us. Walking back out into the dreary weather that seemed to swallow this town, I lifted the tape for Emily to duck under and walked her back to my car.

Climbing in, we both secured our seatbelts when she turned to me. “Where to now, boss?”

My cock twitched at her tone of voice.

“Let’s go visit the disposal scene. Maybe by breaking the pattern, he fucked up in other ways that have also gone unnoticed.”

Chapter Eleven

~ Ronnie ~

He left me in the room by myself a lot during the first few nights I stayed here. While resting, I imagined things about him: his striking looks, the aristocratic tone of his voice, and an intellect that was so well developed you could see it just by looking in his eyes.

He was shrewd, that much was obvious – but at the same time, he was soft. Sometimes, in the early morning, he would sneak into the room and crawl in bed with me. I knew it was wrong for me to feel this way about a man who was practically a stranger, but was he really? I’d seen him enough times in the diner to know that I was attracted to him. I’d fantasized about him as if he were the prince who would swoop in and rescue me from my life.

Normally when he crawled into bed with me, it smelled like he’d just showered and I wondered why he chose to do so at such an add hour. I didn’t mind. The musky scent of his aftershave was enough to make me wish I were well enough to crawl over him, to show him just how thankful I was for being saved.

But even that dream was struck down cruelly when I remembered that Billy was still out there, hunting me down and waiting for the chance to finish what he’d started.

I knew if I left this place, if Billy was somehow able to find me, he wouldn’t stop until I was dead.

In the past, I hadn’t particularly hated the thought of being released from this life, but now? Now I thought I’d found hope in the person who’d not only rescued me, but who was now tending to me and helping me heal.

“Good morning, Pet. Are you hungry?”

He entered the room after unlocking the door. I wasn’t sure what to think about the locks, his rules or the fact that he referred to me in such an odd way. Shaking it off, I realized I was being ridiculous for allowing myself to be concerned about something as insignificant as a name. It was no different than any other term of endearment. Rather than being suspicious, I should feel grateful that he uses such a name. It shows he cares.

“I’m starving actually. Would you like me to cook something?”

“No.” His response was so immediate it caused me to jump. He smiled, reaching the bed and sitting down on the side. “I want you to rest and heal. That’s the reason for all of this, correct?”

I nodded in agreement. “Yes. Of course. I’m sorry.”

Hooking his finger beneath my chin, he pulled my face up softly. “Don’t be sorry.”

Like a petulant child, I complained about his absence. “Where were you last night? I know it’s stupid, but I like it when you lay next to me. It makes me feel safe.”

He looked at me for a few minutes, several different emotions drifting through his gaze before he finally responded, “Don’t ask questions of me, Pet. That’s not allowed. And you’re never safe.”

I was struck by his odd words. My thoughts immediately jumped to my past. “Has Billy figured out where I am?” Gasping, I covered my mouth with my hand before adding, “Does he know it was you? Oh God, Jude. What if he…”

“Shhhhhh.” His finger was over my mouth to silence me. “Billy hasn’t found anything. Not me or you. I was at your restaurant last night checking to see if he’s been looking for you.”

“Oh, Jude. That’s dangerous!”

His thumb and finger gripped my chin – hard. “Stop. Don’t waste your time worrying about me. I can take care of myself.”

Tears slipped free of my eyes and he released my chin, finally realizing that he’d caused me pain. Something I didn’t recognize filtered through his gaze, but it was gone as soon as I saw it.

“I have to go to work.” Brushing me off, he stood up from the bed, distancing himself from me immediately. “My mother has left some food in the kitchen. I’ll grab you an assortment of pastries and sandwiches. You’ll find that I refilled your mini-fridge last night while you slept. That should take care of you until I return. Perhaps tonight we can cook together. What do you say?”

I nodded my head, not liking his sudden switch in personality. He went from someone who was personal and kind to someone cold and businesslike. Had I upset him?

He returned the curt nod and was out the door before I could ask him that question.

***

The lock to the door clicked again and his entrance meant that night had fallen. How long would I get to keep him to myself this time?

It was odd. Despite the way my body hurt, I wanted him to touch me, to show me in some way that I was more to him that a pathetic woman he had to protect. I was strong, in my own ways, but I wasn’t sure how to tell him.

“Did you have a nice day?”

Brushing stray hairs away from my face, I smiled up at him as sweetly as I could, despite the angry purple bruises that still marred my face. “Yes.” I laughed, hating to admit what I’d done all day. “There was a classic movie marathon on television. I watched Gone with the Wind and Casablanca.” I could feel my cheeks heating to say, “In fact, you kind of remind me of Rhett Butler.”

His expression was strange after I said that. I opened my mouth to explain, but he laughed before I had the chance to speak.

“Would you like me to throw you over my shoulder and drag you upstairs?
Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn
.” He mimicked, jokingly.

My embarrassment ratcheted. “I – I didn’t mean it like that…”

Sitting on the bed, he brushed the backs of his fingers across my cheek. “I can’t wait to see that blush on your skin when it isn’t made ugly by the bruises.”

My heart fell. I was humiliated by the injuries. “I wish you never had to see me like this.”

“I’ve seen them before. Many times. You never hid them well in the restaurant, regardless of your attempts.”

He sounded like he was reprimanding me. I didn’t know if he’d intended to hurt me with his words, but that had been the effect. For a person who could show so much warmth, it was lost when his persona reverted back to the cold, bitter character of the businessman that he was.

“You ready to cook dinner? I purchased steak. I hope that’s to your liking.”

Cold blue eyes stared down at me and I couldn’t speak past the lump in my throat. Nodding in response, I pushed up from where I sat slumped against the pillows and followed him into the kitchen.

“Take a seat at the bar. Would you mind putting together a salad?”

“I’d love to.” Giving him a fake smile, I separated the vegetables out that he placed in front of me and began chopping them with the knife he’d left on the counter.

He hovered over another cutting board that was built into the cement counter on the opposite side of the bar. I wasn’t sure why, but when he was busy fileting the meat into halves; I was paying more attention to his actions over mine. Mindlessly, I continued chopping, but something about the way he handled the knife impressed me. His movements were quick and fluid, like a surgeon or master chef. The knife I was using came down heavy over the cucumber I was slicing and hot pain seared my finger.

“Oh shit!” Looking down, I realized I’d cut the tip. Blood poured from the wound, hot and thick. Jude froze where he stood. Glancing up, I caught his gaze. His eyes were a mixture of heat and anger.

He sprung into action, coming around the counter to grab my hand and pull me from my chair. “Hold your hand above your head to keep it from bleeding.” He was angry and sharp words were spit from his lips. “How could you be so stupid?”

Tears burst from my eyes and I reverted back to the abused girl I was with Billy, immediately apologizing and attempting to pull away for fear he would hit me.

His grip was strong and he dragged me along the kitchen floor, turning on the cold-water faucet and shoving my hand beneath the cold spray. He didn’t look away from the blood that dripped into the sink, watching as it turned from red to pink as the water diluted it.

“Keep your hand there. I’ll go grab some medical supplies. Don’t move.” Barking out his instructions, he didn’t bother to look at me.

I was still in place when he returned. Stepping up behind me, his chest pressed against my back. Wrapping his arms around me, he took my hand in his, applying enough pressure to stop the flow of blood before wrapping a bandage over the wound.

I was lost in his heat, shame freezing me in my place for having cut myself. I shouldn’t enjoy this moment, shouldn’t view his proximity as anything more than his desire to tend to my injury. I wanted to believe he was holding me close because he wanted me. But that was a silly thought.

What would a man who had it all want with a girl like me?

I had nothing. No home, no job, no family or friends. I allowed people to abuse me. I wasn’t strong or secure and because of that, I had nothing to offer.

When he’d finished bandaging my hand, he stepped away from me. “Go sit down and finish. Be careful with the knife, Pet.”

Taking my seat, I tried to explain. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying attention to what I was doing. I was amazed by your skill…”

He glared at me. “My skill?”

“With the knife. I wondered if you’d had practice as a chef or something.” My words trailed off. I’d never seen him so angry.

“Just chop the vegetables, Pet.” Dismissing me with cold words, he went back to slicing the meat and adding seasoning. By the time he threw it onto the hot pan, it sizzled and filled the room with the smell of rosemary and thyme.

I finished putting together the salad and sat silently waiting for him to speak to me again. That moment never came. We ate dinner without a word and I was afraid to even compliment him on the steak. It was amazing. I wasn’t surprised, though. He was the type of man who would be gifted in whatever endeavor he decided to undertake.

When we’d finished, he took the plates from the table and dumped them in the sink. He stood without speaking for a few moments, his head lowered as if in contemplation. The tension between us was thick and uncomfortable, but I remained in my seat feeling as if I should wait for his instruction to move.

He had an air about him that held me in a place of submission, an aspect to his personality that commanded authority to which I was happy to release all control.

“I’m going to take you back to your room now, Pet. I want you to get a shower and get some sleep. I have more work to do this evening. I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”

I hated that I’d upset him so badly. I looked forward to this time together all day and, as usual, I’d done something foolish to ruin it. My concern grew that as soon as I was fully healed, he’d tell me to leave, no longer caring that a man was trying to kill me once the evidence of that man’s abuse had faded from my skin.

After he walked me to the room, I sat on the bed and looked up at him. There was no emotion in his expression, no hint of the thoughts that raced through his head. I felt alone in the room even though he stood looking at me.

Without speaking he moved through the door, shutting it and throwing the lock into place.

One would think the metallic sound should bother me.

But for some odd reason, it didn’t.

Chapter Twelve

Donovan Blake

Portland, Oregon

“Her name is Veronica Lapierre.”

Placing the coffee cups on the table, the haggard waitress reached up to push her feathered bangs out of her eyes. The blue eye shadow she wore was far too thick and the makeup she used to conceal the bags beneath her eyes wasn’t working. It was obvious the woman was beat down and tired, most likely in need of a vacation or some other form of relief from her life.

“Everybody calls her Ronnie. She hates her full name.”

“Have you heard from her since last week, Miss…”

“Aimee. My name’s Aimee. And no. I haven’t heard from her. I expected to because we’re friends and all, but I think she’s probably hiding out from that psycho she lives with.” She shrugged. “Or maybe she’s hiding from the cops. I saw on the news that Billy is dead. Guess he can’t hurt her anymore, so there’s really no reason for her to hide from him. Unless she doesn’t know.”

“Did she have any friends other than the man she lived with or the staff here at the diner.”

“Nope.” With a popping ‘P’ she gave that response before smiling. “She couldn’t go anywhere except to work. Billy controlled her like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Poor thing always came in with new bruises that she would blame on anything but the person who actually caused them. I asked her to go out a couple times, but she always turned me down. I guess Billy would’ve freaked if she wasn’t home on time.”

There was nothing this woman was telling me that I didn’t already know.

“Can you describe her for me? Height, weight…”

“Ronnie was a beautiful girl. I never understood how she ended up in this hellhole. Shit, porn would be a better gig than this job.” She glanced back, her mousey brown hair bouncing over her shoulders as she checked for anybody within hearing range. “She was a smaller girl. I’d say about 5’4” maybe. She had pretty blonde hair and blue eyes. Tiny is the word I would use to describe her. I wouldn’t say she weighed more than 100 pounds at most.”

“Thank you, Aimee. You’ve been very helpful.” Dismissing her with my tone, she took the hint without hesitation. I watched as she crossed the diner to grab an order of food and hustle it over to a waiting table.