Set Up For Love (15 page)

Jill swallowed, but showed no other sign of emotion. He admired her ability to control her fear. He wished he could protect her from all this. But he couldn’t.

“Notice how the smear forms a crude diamond shape? Look carefully at the points.”

She moved closer. “I don’t see anything.”

Ignoring the way his heart pounded from her nearness, Dane traced the points of the diamond with his pen. “See the letter at each tip?”

Chapter Twenty-One

Jill pushed her empty plate away, ready to head out the door and get on the road again. When amusement flickered in Dane’s eyes, she braced herself.

“For a woman too keyed up to eat you did well,” he said.

She shrugged. They’d been so busy discussing what they’d learned she been unaware that she’d managed to eat everything, even the potato skin.
Tess loved a fluffy baked potato.
“Sometimes I feed my fear.”

“You mean it wasn’t that juicy grilled steak and cheese bread that inspired your healthy appetite?”

She was getting used to his joking in the midst of trouble. It even helped to get her over some of the rough spots. “That may have had something to do with it.”

His lopsided grin deepened the crease on the left side of his lips. She fought an urge to touch it.

The waiter refilled their glasses with wine. Some of the red liquid spilled on the tablecloth, reminding her of blood.

She gripped the stem of the glass, needing something to hang onto. “The killer is stroking his ego with each of his conquests. If you’re right about those blood squiggles on the mirror being initials, he may have become one of those rare serial killers who is compelled to leave an intentional clue.”

Jill shook her head. “My VICAP profile indicates the opposite. He enjoys hurting people. Probably was the kind of kid who pulled wings off dragonflies.”

“We’ll find him,” Dane said, squeezing her hand.

She nodded, but would it be in time to save Tess? In spite of the thick profile she’d put together on this psychopath, she could pass him on the street and never know it. He would look normal, attractive, even seem charming. Mr. Everyday Citizen. Only he was a cold-blooded killer.

Dane held her gaze. “We’ll figure this out together. Did you know that Charmaine kept a daily journal?”

“Yes.” The knowledge that he was trying to help stirred something inside her. “Charmaine’s brother told me about it. Perhaps the killer found it when he searched her apartment. There were ashes in the trash can.”

He looked at her long and hard, then squared his shoulders as if he’d made a decision. “I want you to see the advertising videos I made of Charmaine and Tess. I think it will allay your concerns about my involvement in anything sordid.”

Jill gripped the edge of the table. “You have videos of Tess? And you’re just now telling me?” The air crackled between them. She quickly gathered up her purse and jacket. “Where are they?”

Without waiting for the bill, Dane tossed a wad of cash on the table and guided her toward the door. She felt the warmth of his touch. He paused and drew her to face him. Their lips were only inches apart, his breath mingling with hers. “You can trust me, Jill.” His voice was ragged, deep as though ripped from his core.

She knew in that instant he wasn’t just a reporter out for a story anymore. He cared. She could trust him. But could she trust her own heart? As wrong as he was for her, she was falling for Dane Clark and was helpless to stop it.

Chapter Twenty-Two

The candle licked the darkness in the musty, dank, concrete dungeon, sending a flickering halo of light over the two of them. Tess’ captor felt an odd coldness in his gut as he stared at her. He had trussed her up like a doe about to be mounted on a hunter’s hood. Her back was pressed against the wall, knees bent. In spite of the tape over the cloth in her mouth, she was still beautiful.

Shaken by Tess’ steady, condemning gaze, he leaned forward and lit his cigarette from the candle flame. He blew a puff of smoke in her face. She blinked, but her expression didn’t change. Her large, blue eyes damned him.

Earlier, when he had taken the gag off to let her eat, she’d asked him why he was doing this, over and over softly like a mantra. He ordered her to shut up and was surprised when she complied. That wasn’t like her. He hadn’t expected his threat of another dose of chloroform to be enough to keep her in line. If she thought it was safer to be conscious, she was a fool.

Why did she have to keep looking at him like that?

He buried his head in his hands. Holding her captive wasn’t working. It was changing him, weakening him. He’d wanted to keep her alive until he grabbed Jill. But Tess had a way of making him feel sorry for her. Making him feel. Damn her.

His heart thudded against his chest. He rose and began pacing, clenching and unclenching his fists. There was only one thing he could do. Kill again.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Jill shifted from one foot to the other while Dane unlocked his apartment door. He reached in, switched on a light, then stepped aside, waiting for her to enter.

Inside, she paused, surprised. The place had a woman’s touch. There was a portrait on the entry wall of Dane, a woman and a boy smiling. She’d learned that Dane was a widower, but the missing office file that might have explained more still hadn’t been located.

“You lived here with your wife.” She said it softly.

“No. We had a home in the suburbs. But after Davy and Laura were murdered...” His voice thickened.

“Murdered? Oh, no.” She clutched her bag tighter. The pain in his voice pierced her deeply. She wanted to put her arms around him, but she stood frozen. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

Dane loosened and removed his tie. “Past history.” He cleared his throat. “I need a bourbon. Would you like one?”

“Not now, thanks.” Her voice came out husky.

A cocktail might have eased the tension electrifying the room, but the wine they’d had at dinner was more than she was used to drinking, and Jill wanted a clear head to view the videos.

Dane circled behind her to help her off with her jacket. His hands lingered lightly, briefly, on her shoulders. Her heart picked up a beat. Then he left her standing there, trembling from his touch.

The wind had picked up and whistled loudly outside Dane’s hill top apartment. She slipped over to the French doors that led to a small balcony and looked through the glass. The wind had swept the darkened sky of all haze or fog, leaving only glittering city lights and the floodlit orange towers of the Golden Gate Bridge.

She paced a few steps, then turned to a shelf filled with mementos and picked up a Little League trophy, merely to have something to hold on to. Fearing it might offend Dane to have someone handle his dead son’s possession, she quickly put it back.

Coming here was a mistake. She felt like an intruder in this shrine to his wife and son. She should’ve insisted upon viewing the videos at her office.

Dane held up two tapes. “Sorry I don’t have popcorn for this.” His flippancy didn’t fool her. This man was hurting. Until now, she hadn’t seen how deep his pain was. There was a whole dimension about him she didn’t know. She wanted to ask him about the murders, but he’d made it clear he didn’t want to discuss it. Could he be plagued with posttraumatic stress? If so he needed lots of love to heal.

He sat down next to her. She didn’t move away. She needed his closeness just now. Maybe he needed hers even more. When he rested an arm behind her on the top of the couch, it brought him even closer. He started the tape with a flick of the remote control.

Jill watched in silence. Charmaine, dressed in jeans and an over-sized white shirt, romped and played with a dozen homeless puppies; all mixed breeds except for one spindly-legged Dalmatian. In spite of what Dane had said, Jill had expected something erotic in scanty dress, but the video was a commercial for the Humane Society taken in Golden Gate Park. “It’s a commercial,” she said, a little dazed.

Looking amused, he rewound the tape. “That’s what I told you.”

Tess would be in the next video, Jill thought, preparing herself. She was a psychologist and should be able to control her emotions. But that was impossible where Tess was concerned.
Please, God, let me get through this without any tears.

“Don’t worry,” Dane said. “You’ll like this. It shows her warmth.”

She wondered how well he really knew Tess. “She’s a very special girl,” Jill said. “So caring, so giving. All last summer she sat once a week with an elderly neighbor, an Alzheimer’s patient. His wife said Tess could always make him laugh.”

Dane’s expression softened. “No one could resist Tess,” he said hoarsely. “She was—” He bit off the word and made a fast correction. “...is a good kid.”

Jill cringed. “Tess isn’t dead. She isn’t!”

Concern darkened Dane’s eyes.

Jill nodded for him to go ahead and insert the second tape. She’d survived talking about Tess and would survive seeing her on tape. She gripped the couch cushion and braced herself.

The video flickered. Tess, willowy and svelte in ballet tights and a wispy ivory skirt, danced through a flower shop gathering red carnations and snowy white mums. The close up showed peaches and cream skin and large blue eyes full of wonderment.
Oh, God, she was so lovely.
Again, tears welled up in Jill’s eyes. This time she couldn’t fight them.

Dane stopped the video. His arms closed around her and she allowed herself to be comforted by his strength and warm masculinity.

“It’s all right, Jill, we’ll find her.” He smoothed her hair. She felt the compassion in his touch and looked up at him. His brown eyes were steady. Suddenly his lips were on hers, gentle as a feather. The saltiness from her tears mingled with the bourbon sweetness of his kiss. She responded with the desperation of a starving woman.

Dane’s words were chosen carefully and Jill had the impression of things left unsaid. It was her fault. She’d let her guard down, allowed her vulnerability to show, and made a complete fool of herself.

He put down the drinks he was carrying, and took the phone from her hand. “I don’t want you to go.” His deep voice and possessive tone sent shivers through her.

“You don’t look very frightened to me.”
What kind of game was he playing?