The Wharf
Authors: Carol Ericson
In Carol Ericson’s next Brody Law book a police chief and a journalist keep their relationship professional—until she becomes a target…
True crime writer Kacie Manning vowed to expose the serial killer suspected of murdering her mother. And she was going to use the killer’s son to do it. But Ryan Brody wasn’t at all what she expected….
The sexy police chief hoped Kacie could clear his father’s name, never expecting the beautiful journalist to have other motives. Then her life was threatened, and Ryan’s protective instincts kicked into overdrive. Now, as his past came back to haunt him and Kacie, Ryan had no choice but to find out what really tore his family apart twenty-five years ago. It was a truth he had to face if he wanted to keep Kacie safe—and maybe even in his life.
“You are not going to traipse down to the wharf alone at eleven o’clock at night.”
A little thrill raced down Kacie’s back. She couldn’t help it. “He’ll never talk if he sees you there.”
“Who said he’s going to see me?”
She waved her hand over Ryan’s imposing form. “Little hard for someone like you to blend in.”
“I have my ways.”
“As long as you stay out of sight. I don’t want you spoiling my meeting.”
“How about saving your life?” He pushed back from the table and stepped around it to pull her chair out for her. “Is that okay with you?”
She nodded as silly schoolgirl butterflies took flight in her belly.
She’d have to watch herself with this man, in more ways than one. Because she couldn’t let a sexy grin and a pair of strong arms deter her from exacting her revenge.
THE
WHARF
Carol Ericson
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Carol Ericson lives with her husband and two sons in Southern California, home of state-of-the-art cosmetic surgery, wild freeway chases, palm trees bending in the Santa Ana winds and a million amazing stories. These stories, along with hordes of virile men and feisty women, clamor for release from Carol’s head. It makes for some interesting headaches until she sets them free to fulfill their destinies and her readers’ fantasies. To find out more about Carol, her books and her strange headaches, please visit her website,
www.carolericson.com
, “Where romance flirts with danger.”
Books by Carol Ericson
HARLEQUIN INTRIGUE
1034—THE STRANGER AND I
1079—A DOCTOR-NURSE ENCOUNTER
1117—CIRCUMSTANTIAL MEMORIES
1184—THE SHERIFF OF SILVERHILL
1231—THE McCLINTOCK PROPOSAL
1250—A SILVERHILL CHRISTMAS
1267—NAVY SEAL SECURITY‡
1273—MOUNTAIN RANGER RECON‡
1320—TOP GUN GUARDIAN‡
1326—GREEN BERET BODYGUARD‡
1349—OBSESSION†
1355—EYEWITNESS†
1373—INTUITION†
1379—DECEPTION†
1409—RUN, HIDE**
1415—CONCEAL, PROTECT**
1450—TRAP, SECURE**
1458—CATCH, RELEASE**
1487—THE BRIDGEΔ
1492—THE DISTRICTΔ
1518—THE WHARFΔ
‡Brothers in Arms
†Guardians of Coral Cove
**Brothers in Arms: Fully Engaged
ΔBrody Law
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Ryan Brody—
A small-town police chief, he agrees to help Kacie Manning research a book about his father, which unleashes a chain of events that he can’t control any more than he can control his attraction to Kacie.
Kacie Manning—
A true-crime writer who has an ax to grind with the Brody family, but her secrets are about to explode in her face, threatening her life and her tentative relationship with Ryan Brody.
Douglas Walker—
This killer thought he had Kacie in the palm of his hand, but the book she wrote about him is less than flattering. Now he’s out for revenge.
Duke Bannister—
An ex-con who tries to warn Kacie and ends up with a target on his back.
Cookie Phelps—
She was the last one to see Detective Joe Brody alive on the bridge, but she’s not telling everything she knows about that fateful night.
Marie Giardano—
The SFPD records clerk has always been a friend to the Brody brothers, but even that friendship can’t protect her from people who think she knows too much.
Mrs. Rigoletto—
The widow of Joseph Brody’s partner may have dementia, but what secrets lie behind her vacant stare?
Layla French—
The Phone Book Killer’s first victim ties the past and the present together.
Russ Langford—
Kacie’s long-lost father may hold the key to the identity of the Phone Book Killer, or he may just be out for his own revenge.
To my editor Allison, who gets it
Contents
Chapter One
The clanging of the halyards against the masts of the sailboats docked at the pier echoed across the water, sounding like a death-knell chorus.
“He wants revenge against you for tricking him, and he’s gonna get it if you don’t watch yourself.”
Kacie Manning’s back tingled with the warning, as if someone had already placed a target there. She peered at the man three feet away from her. His face was obscured by a baseball cap pulled low on his forehead and a bandana hiding his mouth and chin.
“Would you be willing to go to the police and tell them what you just told me? He can’t make threats like that from prison.”
The figure hugging the shadows hunched his shoulders. “I’m not getting on his bad side. The man’s a straight-up psychopath. If the warden pays him a visit, Dan’s gonna know who talked.”
Kacie hugged herself, dipping her hands into the sleeves of her baggy sweater to ward off the chill of the night...and his words. “How’s Dan going to get the word out on the street? The prison monitors his communication.”
The man whistled between his teeth, and the bandana puffed out from his face. “I thought you knew Daniel Walker. You wrote a book about him, didn’t you?”
“You know that, or we wouldn’t be here.”
“Then you should know what he’s capable of, Kacie. He ain’t just a psycho. He’s a crafty psycho.”
Goose bumps raced across her flesh, and she rubbed her arms. This ex-con obviously knew Daniel Walker well. Not everyone did—his own family sure hadn’t. “Did he actually confess to the murders?”
“No way.” He scratched at his chin beneath the bandana. “He’s too smart for that. He still wants to keep on pretending. He started talking to me about karma one day before my parole. I didn’t know what the hell he was talking about, but then he explained it’s like revenge, comeuppance. And he told me you were gonna get yours.”
“Why are you telling me this? Why are you warning me?”
“I dunno.” He shuffled a step closer, careful to keep his face in the darkness. “You’re a pretty little gal, Kacie. I saw you once or twice when you came to the big house to interview Walker.”
She tried to swallow, but her dry throat wouldn’t allow it.
He’d seen her at Walla Walla? Maybe Walker had sent
him
to take care of his business. She shuffled back a few steps. “That still doesn’t explain why you’d risk Walker’s anger to warn me.”
“You remind me of my sister a little bit.” His eyes glittered in the dark. “Besides, I ain’t risking nothing. It’s not like you’re going to go running to Walker telling him someone from the state pen warned you about him, right?”
“Of course not.”
A squeaking noise to her right made her grit her teeth. She jerked her head to the side and spotted a shopping cart rumbling around the corner, with a ramshackle man in rags steering it.
The parolee across from her swore and spit from beneath his bandana.
The homeless man trundled toward them, one wheel of his cart squealing and wobbling over the cement walkway.
Kacie held her breath as he drew next to them.
“Can you spare some change?” His hand was already protruding from the dirt-encrusted sleeve of his jacket.
Her informant had ducked back into the shadows, but his voice lashed out at the transient from the anonymity of the darkness. “Move it along, buddy.”
The homeless man must’ve heard something in the other man’s voice because he thrust his cart in front of him and picked up his ambling pace without a word or backward glance.
The transient had enough street smarts to recognize a dangerous man when he heard one. What was her problem? Could she even trust an ex-con wearing a bandana across his lower face?
She scooped in a breath of salty air. “Like I was saying, I have no reason to tell Walker anything.”
“You sure he didn’t charm the pants off you? Make you wet?” The man chuckled low in his throat.
Kacie clenched her jaw where a muscle jumped wildly. He was just trying to make her uncomfortable, push her buttons.
She snorted. “Did you read my book?”
“I don’t read no books, but I heard about it. You tried and convicted the guy all over again and kicked him for good measure.”
“Then you should know his smooth talk didn’t work on me.”
“You’re a good actress, Kacie.”
She flinched. She wished he’d stop using her name. They weren’t friends. They weren’t even acquaintances.
“Why do you say that?”
“’Cuz Walker thought he had you eating out of the palm of his hand during all those interviews you two did together.”
“Oh well.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder.
“That’s why he was so pissed off. It’s not just that you wrote a book that made him look bad. It’s that he thought he had you.”
“He thought wrong.” And she’d done nothing in the interviews that would’ve made him think otherwise. She’d come into the project suspecting an innocent man had been convicted of murdering his wife and children. Several interviews later, she knew she was dealing with a sociopath, a
guilty
sociopath.
“Yeah, he had you all wrong.” He adjusted his cap with a hand sporting a tattoo of a cross on the back. “That’s why he wants to kill you.”
The wind whistled in from across the bay and blew right through her. She huddled into her sweater further. “Thanks for the heads-up.” She dug into her pocket for a hundred-dollar bill, creased it and held it out to him.
Stepping back, he sucked in a breath. “I ain’t no snitch. I didn’t tell you for money.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.” She crumpled the bill in her fist and shoved it back in her pocket. “I appreciate the warning, that’s all.”
“Sure, sure. I told you. You remind me of my sister.”
He pivoted, melting into the shadow of the building.