The Seventh Victim (38 page)

Dr. Granger released a sigh. “If you find letting go does not go as smoothly as you’d like, call me. I’m still happy to talk.”

“Thanks.” She forced the tension from her shoulders. “And I’m sorry I’m such a bitch.”

A smile softened her face. “You’re stressed. You’re not a bitch.”

“If I’m not a bitch I’m doing a fair imitation of one.”

Dr. Granger’s eyes warmed. “No worries.”

“I don’t suppose you could get them to spring me early?”

“Places like this have their own pace.” She rose. “But I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks.”

Dr. Granger departed, and Lara was left to sit once again. After fifteen minutes she glanced at the digital clock on the wall. Her throat felt fine. She’d had no trouble breathing. Could swallow just fine. And no Beck. But then why should he be here? The case was over. Solved. He didn’t need her anymore.

“This is bullshit. I am out of here.”

Just as she spoke the curtain to her room snapped back and a nurse in white scrubs appeared, pushing a wheelchair with a stack of clothes on it. She took one look at Lara reaching for her jeans and frowned. Familiar green eyes studied her.

Lara’s fingers tightened around the denim. “I’ve been waiting for an hour. I’m about to jump out of my skin.”

“The wait is over, Ms. Church. You’re good to go.”

Lara stared at the woman. She was in her early fifties, had dark hair with just a hint of gray, and a slim figure much younger women would envy. “Do I know you?”

“I don’t believe we’ve met.”

Lara glanced at the name tag. E
LAINA
B
ECK.
“You’re related to James Beck?”

The nurse inspected a chart and made a note. “Guilty as charged.”

“Your nephew?”

She glanced up and smiled. “My son.”

Lara lifted a brow. Then remembered Beck had said his mother had only been sixteen when he was born. “He looks a lot like you.”

“So I’ve been told.” She glanced down at her clipboard again. “All I have to do is get you in this wheelchair, and you will be free to go.”

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. So I can get dressed.”

“Yes.” There was a half smile, so similar to Beck’s, and then she vanished outside the curtains.

Her hospital gown billowing around her, Lara rose gingerly from the bed. “Beck said he’d check on my dog. Have you heard from him?”

“If Beck said he’d check on your dog, he will. Now as soon as you get dressed, I can get you out of here.” Mrs. Beck retreated, giving her privacy.

“These aren’t the clothes I was wearing,” Lara said.

“Yours were covered in blood. James got clean ones from your house.”

That would be like Beck to take care of a small but important detail. It didn’t mean he thought any more of her. It just was a kindness Beck would do for anyone. “Thanks.”

Lara slid into her underwear and dressed in the loose-fitting pants and shirt. She thought about her wallet and keys, still in her purse in her truck back at Jonathan’s. And ordering a cab would be tough without her cell phone, which was also in her purse. “Shit.”

The word had barely hissed from her lips when the curtain drew back and Beck appeared. He stood tall and straight, and she’d never been happier to see anyone. She resisted the urge to lean into him and ask him for a hug. “Please tell me you are busting me out of here.”

He removed his hat. “That is exactly what I’m doing.”

“Is Lincoln okay?”

“He’s at your house, and he’s fine.”

“Thanks.” She had been so independent and self-reliant, and now she couldn’t even get home or take care of her dog. “I’d ask for a ride to my truck, but my keys are in my purse and that is at Jonathan’s house.” Tears of frustration burned her eyes and one slid down her cheek. Annoyed, she swiped it away. “Sorry. I’m out of sorts.”

He moved toward her and took her hand in his. His palms were calloused. “Santos followed me in your truck to your house. Everything is waiting for you there.”

She sighed. “Thank you. I just didn’t know how I was going to fix this.”

He stroked her palm with his thumb. “All fixed.”

Warmth spread through her body. “And you’re going to take me home?”

“I am.”

She squeezed his hand, needing more than was wise.

Elaina Beck appeared, her gaze skittering to their clasped hands. “Get in that wheelchair, Ms. Church. I don’t want you fainting on my watch.”

“I don’t need a wheelchair.”

Mrs. Beck arched a brow. “You leave in the chair or you spend the night.”

Lara stared into eyes as determined as her son’s. She sat in the chair, knowing Mrs. Beck would keep her here tonight.

“Ready, Ms. Church?” Beck said.

He stood tall and strong behind her, and the tension melted from her shoulders. “More than ready.”

Beck leaned over, and kissed his mother on the cheek. “See you tomorrow.”

His mother searched his gaze as if trying to peer into his mind. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Beck,” Lara said.

The older woman patted her on the shoulder. “You’re very welcome.”

Beck pushed her out the emergency room exit to his waiting dark Suburban. He locked the brake and took her elbow, helping her rise.

“I’m not made of china, Beck.”

“You look fragile enough to break,” he said.

She smiled as she eased into the passenger seat. “I’m a tough old gal.”

A chuckle rumbled in his chest. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Minutes later he was behind the wheel, and they were heading outside of town. She leaned back in her seat. “How is Raines doing?”

“He’s answering lots of questions. He’s going to be charged, but there’s a chance he could make bail.”

“I’ll do whatever I can for him.”

Beck’s hands tightened on the wheel. “I know.”

“How did you get to us so fast? Raines had only just called nine-one-one.”

“Santos pulled the college surveillance video of Jonathan slicing your tire.”

“It wasn’t Tim?”

“No.”

She shook her head, wondering if it was possible to honestly know anyone. “Have you found out anything more about Jonathan?”

“We found six white dresses hanging in a closet.”

“Six dresses. Six women.”

“He also kept logs on the different women.
The Book of Blair
.
The Book of Gretchen
.”

“
The Book of Lara
.”

“Yes.”

She dug trembling fingers through her hair. “He was always so nice.”

A slight smile tipped the edge of his mouth. “Killers like him are experts at hiding their secrets and projecting to the world the right image.”

“I never saw it coming.”

“No one did until it was almost too late. Except Raines.” He pulled off the main road up the dirt driveway that wound back to her place. When they pulled up in the driveway she could hear Lincoln barking.

Immediately, she opened her door and hurried to her front door. It was locked, but Beck quickly appeared at her side with her keys.

“Thanks.” She twisted the key in the lock and opened the door. Lincoln jumped off the couch and bounded toward her, his tail wagging and his ears perked. She got down on her knees and rubbed him behind the ears as he licked her face.

“Boy, did I miss you,” she said.

She rose as Lincoln barked and wagged his tail. She moved to a cabinet where she kept chew sticks, reserved for when she was working on a deadline, and handed him one. He took the bone and immediately jumped up on the couch and settled into it.

“He should be good for at least an hour,” Lara said. “Can I make you a coffee or a snack? I’m starving.”

“I’ll make the coffee.”

“Didn’t we already go through this once before?”

“We did, and as I remember you lost that fight.”

“Not tonight.”

“Lady, if you think I’m going to watch you cook after today, then you are dead wrong. Sit.”

“I thought you could only cook steak and coffee?”

He guided her to a kitchen chair. “I can make a sandwich.”

“I’ve got pita bread, hummus, and veggies.”

He shook his head. “No cold cuts?”

“Sorry.”

He shrugged off his jacket and hung it on the back of the bar stool. “The things I have to do in the line of duty.”

Humor softened his face, making him rather handsome.

“You are a brave soldier.”

With her guidance he made two sandwiches, sliced several apples, and brewed a pot of hot tea. They ate in silence. Lara had not realized how hungry she was and how the food went a long way toward settling her shaky nerves.

When they’d finished, Beck balled up his paper napkin and tossed it on his plate. “I spoke to Dr. Granger,” he said. “She told me you two visited.”

“Did she give you the rundown on me?” No missing the hint of anger in her voice.

“She didn’t repeat a word you said, nor would I ask her to. She’s just worried about you.”

She fiddled with a piece of uneaten crust. “I told her I remembered a little about Seattle. Smells. Sounds.” She ran through the meager list of memories.

“That’s a good sign.”

She picked at the crust. “I may not remember all the details. I was so out of it. And I know I suppressed what I could have remembered because my attacker was someone I trusted.”

“Knife wounds to the back hurt the worst.”

“I think it explains why I ran after Seattle, and why I couldn’t return to Austin after the attack. My grandmother asked me several times, and I couldn’t say yes. If she hadn’t passed away and left me her house, I doubt I’d have returned.”

Beck rose and laid his hands on her shoulders. “He’s dead. He’s gone. He cannot hurt you anymore.”

She rested her hand on his. Touching him felt right. “I know that. I do. I just don’t feel it yet.”

Absently his thumb moved in circles on her shoulder. The subtle movement carried with it a world of meaning: compassion, care, and sexual attraction.

The skin where he touched her quickly warmed and the warmth spread down her arms to her fingers. Looking into a penetrating gaze that made her legs weak, she moistened her lips, letting her gaze dip to his mouth. She wanted to kiss him. The idea wasn’t a new one, but now that the case was solved there were no barriers. No restraints. She could find out if he cared as much about her as the case. Rising on tiptoes, she pressed her lips to his.

Tension rippled through his body. “The timing isn’t good, Lara.”

If not for the growl of desire rumbling under his words she might have retreated. “The case is solved. I said I’d have you over for dinner.”

He laid his hand on her shoulder. “You are a witness. You’ve had a trauma.”

“I want to feel alive.” Emboldened, she rose on tiptoes and kissed his lips again. The kiss was gentle, but meant to be flame to tinder.

He traced her bottom lip with his thumb. “Hold off.”

“I’ve been putting off my life for seven years. My new policy is to do what I want to do now, not later.” She traced her hands over his chest, savoring the way his hard muscles tensed under her touch.

“Really?” He captured her hands in his.

“Really.” She cupped his face with her hands and pulled it forward. She kissed him, this time sending him all the pent-up desire and dreams she’d carried inside for seven years.

Moaning, he wound his arm around her waist and pulled her to him. He deepened the kiss, and she pushed her body against his. Desire burned through her veins and sent her heart beating faster than when she ran a country mile on a hot day.

“This is coming from raw emotion.” The smooth edges of his Texas drawl had turned rough.

“I know exactly what I want.” She kissed him again and this time his hand cupped her breast.

The sensations of desire nearly swept her away. She slid her hand over his flat belly and around to his butt. A groan rumbled in the back of his chest and he deepened the kiss.

Lincoln yawned, and she cut her eyes to her right. The dog was staring at them, ears perked. “We do not need an audience.”

She took Beck by the hand and led him down the hallway to her bedroom. Without a word she unbuttoned her blouse and let it drop and pool at her feet. A simple white lace bra covered her breasts.

He raised his hand to her collarbone and gently touched the bruises on her neck. “I should have been there today.”

“You were coming to save me.”

“I wasn’t fast enough.”

She cupped her hand over his and kissed the fingertips. “He fooled us all.”

His jaw tightened as if an invisible force were choking the breath from him.

“It’s okay.” She kissed him on the lips, his jawline and then his neck.

He groaned as if it pained him to hold back and then very slowly backed her up until she bumped into the edge of her bed. His hand flattened on her stomach. “You are sure about this?”

She reached between her breasts and unfastened the clip. Her bra opened and she shrugged it free. “Oh, so sure.”

Beck gently pushed her back so that she sat down. He shrugged off his shirt and toed off his boots. Carefully, he unholstered his gun and set it on her nightstand, which was crowded with half-read books.

She unfastened his large, silver belt buckle, unzipped his pants, and carefully eased her hand over his erection. Hissing in a breath, he stared down at her, his eyes dark with desire.

“Am I doing it right?” she said, suddenly unsure. “It’s been awhile.”

He loosened her braid and threaded his hand through her hair. “You’re doing it just right.”

Beck moved forward until his bulk forced her to sit on the edge of the mattress and lie back. For a moment he stood and stared at her, his hand tracing the edge of her jaw and then her lips. She took his hand in hers and pulled him forward. He followed easily, his weight pressing her down, enveloping her. He kissed her neck. “Like riding a bike, darlin’. Once you have the basics you never forget.”

No witty comeback came to mind. In fact, she doubted she could string two words together right now.

Deftly, he slid her pants over her hips and squeezed her bottom in his hands. She wriggled out of the pants and kicked them free. He kissed her again, and this time his fingers slid under the silk of her panties. When he touched her, she hissed and arched into him. She’d not felt this alive in years.