“You think my stalker is a pissed-off husband?” Lise demanded, her expression disbelieving.
“Yes.”
She plopped down on the side of the bed to watch him do floor stretches. He’d been working out in her bedroom again while she wrote. Her stare wasn’t exactly disinterested, and he played to her obvious fascination.
“I guess it makes sense, but that book came out years ago, in the very beginning of my career. Why am I being stalked now?”
“It’s only been five years.” He stood up and did a couple of side-stretches, smiling to himself when her mouth parted and a small sound escaped. “Besides, she could have read it and acted on the dedication message within the last year or so.”
“It had such a small print run.” Her gaze snagged on his pecs as he flexed them shamelessly for her benefit.
She took a deep breath and seemed to gather herself, though her gaze remained glued to his body. “It’s hard to believe anyone found a copy to read recently, but I suppose she could have picked it up used somewhere.”
“That’s what I’m guessing.”
“What?” Her eyes had gone unfocused and he was having a hard time himself sticking to the topic at hand. Her scent teased him, the sweet and feminine fragrance a reminder of how incredibly womanly the little she-wolf really was.
“Oh, um…and you figured this out from the letters in my file?” She perked up. “Does that mean you’ve got a lead on the stalker?”
He grabbed a small towel and started wiping the sweat from his skin. “The timing’s not right for the letters you’d gotten from grateful wives. They were all written the first year after the book came out. So, I’m not sure we’re any closer to identifying the perp.”
It was damn frustrating. They went one step forward and then slid back again. Usually, he had infinite patience with this sort of thing, but Lise’s safety was compromised and he didn’t have his usual professional detachment.
She cocked her head to one side. “Sure we are.”
“How?”
“We know he’s a computer genius who has a four-year degree and twenty-five years of experience in the industry, which gives us an approximate age, and if your theory is correct, we also know he beat his wife. From what he’s said, I think she left him and I have to wonder if he didn’t lose his job, too. How else could he follow me across country?”
“That still doesn’t give us a lot to go on.”
“He’s bound to do something big soon.” Her eyes flashed with intent and temper. “I made him mad today and now that I understand his mind a little better, I’m positive that will spur him to action.”
“You understand his mind better?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s an abuser who doesn’t take responsibility for his own actions, or he wouldn’t be blaming me. That’s a well-documented personality type.”
“You seem to know a lot about it.”
“I had my reasons for finding out.”
“Did your father beat you?” Joshua thought she’d had a rough enough childhood as it was, but he had to ask.
“No, but he ignored the fact that one of our foremen slapped his wife around. I was a little girl—six or seven, maybe—when I saw it happen the first time and I went running to my dad. He told me to mind my own business. That a man could not come between a husband and his wife.”
He could sense from the vibrations coming off of her that there was more to the story. “What happened?”
“It went on for a couple years until she died in a car accident trying to run away from him after one of their fights. I remember going to her funeral. He cried by her grave and I wanted to scream at him that it was his fault.”
“Why didn’t you?” She was pretty feisty. He couldn’t see her backing away from a fight, even as a child.
She sure didn’t fit the first impression he’d had of her as a shy introvert.
“Daddy had let me know already that if I caused him any trouble he’d send me to boarding school.”
Joshua couldn’t believe he’d heard right. “He said what?”
“He got a call from the school when I mouthed back to one of my teachers. He told me if it happened again, I would spend my growing-up years in an all-girls boarding school.”
Joshua’s teeth ground.
“I got the foreman, though…at least as much as a child could.”
He was intrigued. “How?”
“I caught a skunk. I have an affinity for animals, by the way, so don’t make me mad when we’re at the ranch.” She smiled and winked and his dick stood up and saluted. “I let the skunk loose in his house. He had to stay in the bunkhouse for two weeks.”
“Good for you.”
“Daddy fired him when he caught him mistreating one of the horses.” She sounded thoroughly disgusted by her father’s priorities.
Joshua knew he would have been, too. “So, you grew up and dedicated your first book to victims of domestic violence.”
“I donated half my royalties to the prevention of it as well. I didn’t need the money because I was living on the ranch.”
He reached out and touched her, could not help himself from doing so. She was a real piece of work.
She accepted his touch with melting sensuality that went right to his groin. They ended up eating dinner close to bedtime, but neither of them cared.
Lise stopped by her computer and patted Hotwire on the shoulder. “Any luck?”
The blond man smiled even though he was shaking his head. “He hasn’t tried to hack into your system again and there hasn’t been another e-mail since you got back from Texas.”
“He probably is afraid to leave his monitors in case I disappear again. He was seriously pissed when he couldn’t find me last time.” She didn’t even bother to try to disguise the satisfaction that knowledge gave her.
“I keep hoping he’ll cave and send a message from his personal computer, thinking he can hide its origins.”
“That would be nice, but even if we can find the computer, will we find his location?”
“Not if he’s using dial-up, but if he’s got a dedicated line, that makes him more traceable.”
“You know, I’m getting a lot of material for my writing.”
“Yeah. When you think about it, this situation is a lot like one of your books.”
“Only the heroines in my books are always more capable.”
“To my way of thinking, you’re doing pretty darn well, Miz Lise. You’re tough. You might not have the training, but you’ve got the guts.”
She hadn’t felt tough yesterday, but she was working on being more stoic today. “Thanks, but I think Joshua probably wonders when I’m going to flip out next.”
“You’re being too hard on yourself. Wolf is impressed with you. We all are.”
Maybe he was right. A lot of things were distorted right now and it wouldn’t surprise her if her perception was one of them.
A warm hand landed on her neck and she leaned back into Joshua without conscious thought. “Hi.”
“Ready for a break?”
“I was taking one and chatting with Hotwire.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of something that got you out of the apartment.”
Hope unfurled inside her and she turned a brilliant smile on Joshua. “Do you mean it?”
“Yes.”
He took her to Blake Island, the home of Tillicum Village. The small island was a one-hour cruise from Pier 55 in downtown Seattle, but it might as well have been a trip back in time to another culture. From the small cup of steamed clams they ate and then crushed the shells beneath their feet as thousands of visitors to the island had done before them, to the Native American dancing at the end of the evening, the trip took her mind into a totally different realm from the small confines of her apartment.
Joshua led her off by themselves after the dancing display, for a walk along the deserted beach. His hand rested lightly on her shoulder, but his warmth radiated along her side, even through the layers of clothing separating them.
“This is an amazing place.”
“Hotwire found info on the Net about it. We figured you didn’t want to spend your time away from the apartment inside a restaurant or museum, surrounded by a bunch of people.”
She took a deep breath of the brisk, salt-laden air. “Y’all were right. I miss the solitude I had back in Texas. Being alone in an apartment and knowing you’re amidst a couple million people is not the same thing, but this feels so good.”
The cruise had not been as crowded as it would have been in the summer months, she was sure, and she was grateful. “It’s exactly what I needed.”
He stopped, his feet bare inches from the incoming tide line, and turned her body so they faced each other. She couldn’t see his expression because the only light around them was from a star-filled sky she could not see in Seattle. However, warmth and understanding reached out to curl around her in discernable waves.
“I’m glad you like it, honey.”
The words I love you were on the tip of her tongue, but she managed to hold them inside. She could not hold back a kiss of passion and deep emotion that demanded expression, however.
His face was cold, but his lips were warm and his arms came around her with bruising force. Afterward, he turned her around so they were both facing the glittering black ocean, his arms locked around her midsection.
They stayed like that until it was time to go.
“You want me to go grocery shopping?” Lise asked.
The implication of Joshua’s request hit her immediately. It was time for the next step in their plan to catch her stalker. While she was thrilled, she was also surprised.
Only three days had passed since Joshua had taken her to the island, and somehow she’d gotten the impression they were going to let more time go by before giving her the go-ahead to leave the apartment on her own.
Perhaps the frequency of Nemesis’s attempt at communication had swayed Joshua’s timetable.
There had been several phone calls that showed up as unknowns on her caller I.D., but she hadn’t answered any of them. Joshua had determined that cutting off her stalker’s ability to contact Lise freely was the best way to force him to act. She also spent less time in the living room and more time writing at her computer, thus not giving Nemesis the option of watching her as much.
Hotwire had set the firewall up so that any attempt to breach it would create a pop-up message on her screen so she could call him to investigate it immediately. So far, Nemesis had not tried.
He had sent her another package. That very morning. This time the box had contained a pile of shredded pages from the book dedicated to victims of domestic violence, confirming Joshua’s hypothesis that the book had been the spark for Nemesis’s obsession.
Not that the confirmation had done them any good. So far, all the leads from that direction had ended up dead ends.
“We’re hoping we’ve pushed Nemesis enough to risk breaking into your apartment while you’re gone in order to fix his transmitter. He’s got to be climbing the walls since you won’t answer your phone and he’s obviously decided it’s too risky to send another e-mail.”
“What if he decides to follow me instead?” she asked.
“All the better. Hotwire set up a receiver for me, so I can follow your car as easily as Nemesis. You won’t see me, but I’ll be right behind you.”
She nodded. “Thank you.”
“I need you to be aware of the risks involved here, sweetheart.” Joshua put his hands on either side of her face, his eyes compelling her to listen. “My following you won’t stop a bullet from penetrating your car window, or you from being rammed by another driver. I’ll protect you as much as I can, but we don’t know how escalated Nemesis’s behavior is, and I want you to make an informed decision about doing this. Chances are, he will follow you, if for nothing else than to determine you haven’t left Seattle again.”
When he finished speaking, Joshua dropped his hands and stepped back as if saying with his body that the choice really was hers.
“If he was going to shoot me, wouldn’t he have done it when I was sitting in my rocker, writing? There’s a window right across from it.” She hadn’t considered that risk before, but then, the possibility that a madman might want to shoot her had never been high on her list of feasible alternatives to watching television on a weeknight.
“It’s reinforced with a layer of bulletproof glass.”
She couldn’t have heard right. “What?”
“I had Nitro and Hotwire install it when you and I were in Texas. They’ll remove the window and the casing when we’ve caught Nemesis.”
She looked over her shoulder, into the living room and beyond to where sheer drapery panels blocked a direct view of the window glass. She couldn’t see anything different, but she didn’t doubt Joshua’s words.
Shocked breathless by that level of protection, she could feel her mouth making guppylike motions. “Nemesis doesn’t know the bulletproof glass is there any more than I did,” she said finally, “but he still hasn’t shot at me.”
Joshua’s taciturn expression did not lighten. “We can’t assume that means he won’t act with violent intent when you’re on your own in your car.”
He was right, but she didn’t think that fact should prevent her from following through with the plan. She wanted her life back and if that meant taking some risks, she’d take them.
She told Joshua that and he smiled, both approval and concern for once easy to read in his dark brown eyes.
She was still thinking about that look later as she drove toward the grocery store. She’d been unable to catch a glimpse of Joshua in her rear-view mirror, but she knew he was there, just as he’d said he would be. Watching over her.
She squinted at a street sign as she passed it and realized she’d gone the wrong way for the grocery store. She was on a curving road that overlooked the Sound in West Seattle. Trying to remember if there was a convenient turnoff coming up, she debated between doing that or simply taking the scenic route around the point and doubling back.
When she tried to weigh the alternatives, she had to focus on remembering why it was a choice. A yawn surprised her and she raised her hand to cover her mouth instinctively, swerving a little toward the median. She quickly corrected for it.
Making love instead of sleeping might be more fun, but it was wreaking havoc with her energy level and thinking processes.
The road ahead of her started to blur slightly and she turned on the windshield wipers. They squeaked against the dry window and she fumbled to turn them off again. Maybe she needed the defrost on. She flipped the switch to High and blinked, trying to clear the fog from her eyes.
The car swerved toward the other side of the road.
Was something wrong with her power steering? She’d have to get that checked the next time she had her oil changed. Or did that kind of thing require a mechanic?
My, it was hard to breathe, like the air was too cold or something. She turned the heat on high, blasting her face with warm air, but it didn’t make it any easier to get a breath.
An annoying beeping penetrated her thoughts about the car. She pounded on the button for the radio, but all that did was elicit blaring noise. She fumbled to flip it off again, before she realized the beeping was her cell phone. She made it a habit not to talk on the phone when she was driving. Whoever was calling would have to leave a message.
But the beeping wouldn’t stop. Had she turned off her voicemail, or was someone calling her over and over again?
The car weaved again as she grabbed the phone and flipped it open.
“Hello?” Her voice sounded slurred to her. Weird.
“Lise, pull over, right now.”
“Joshua?” He sounded angry. “What’s the matter?”
“Pull your fricken car to the side of the road. Now, Lise.”
“You don’t have to shout at me.”
“Do it.”
“Why?” A car honked at her as they came within inches of touching each other.
She glared at the other driver. “Stay on your own side of the road!”
“Stop your car!” He sounded frantic now, not just mad.
She couldn’t think why, but maybe he needed her for something. Maybe they’d caught Nemesis. She turned on her blinker, somehow engaging the windshield wipers again.
What was she doing?
“Lise!”
Oh, yes, pulling over.
She dropped the phone, not liking the loud shouting so close to her ear. Then she guided her car to the side of the road, but misjudged the distance and her bumper grazed the guardrail as she came to a stop.
Oh no, she would have to have bodywork done. She was sure of it. She put the car in Park and then turned it off. No use wasting gas while she and Joshua talked, but why hadn’t he just told her on the phone?
Told her what? She tried to remember.
Her head fell back against the seat before her extreme tiredness caught up to her.
Joshua’s heart felt like it was going to pound out of his chest as he brought his car to a screeching halt behind Lise’s Explorer.
She’d almost gone through the guardrail. Did she realize that? She’d been driving like she was drunk or high on something.
What in the hell had happened?
Lise hadn’t gotten out of the Explorer and her head was resting against her seat at an angle. He slammed out of his car, his adrenaline pumping double-time, and sprinted to hers. He tried to yank the door open, but it was locked.
He pounded on the window, shouting at her to unlock the car, but she didn’t respond.
He ran back to his car and popped the trunk, grabbing the kit he kept with him at all times. The slim-jim worked in seconds, but they felt like hours as prickles of cold sweat chilled his back and underarms and his gut clenched in genuine fear.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been afraid.
It was an ugly feeling.
He yanked the door open, feeling like he was going to pull it from its hinges, and the faint odor of exhaust met him.
Shit.
He unbuckled her seat belt and lifted her out of the car.
She was breathing. Thank you, God!
He took her to his car and laid her on the hood. He couldn’t administer mouth-to-mouth. The last thing she needed was his carbon dioxide in her lungs mixed with a little oxygen, and she was still breathing. Right, so no mouth-to-mouth, but he hated the feeling of helplessness that overwhelmed him.
He could administer an I.V., cauterize a wound, and even dig a bullet out with a sharp knife and do little additional damage, but he didn’t carry oxygen in his kit. Damn it.
He started chafing her hands. “Come on, sweetheart, wake up. Let me see those pretty hazel eyes open.”
But she continued to lie there as if asleep. Only it was a sleep he was terrified she would not wake up from. Then her body bowed and she heaved in air, doing a good measure toward clearing her lungs of the carbon monoxide.
“That’s right, baby. Breathe.”
She sucked in another breath and then started coughing, but she didn’t wake up. He started praying as he picked her up and put her in the passenger seat of his car, then kept it up the whole way to the hospital.
It was the most he’d talked to the Man Upstairs in years.
Lise came to as he was carrying her into the Emergency Room. Her eyes were bloodshot and unfocused, like she’d been on an all-night bender.
“What’s happening?” Her voice was scratchy and still a little slurred.
“Carbon monoxide poisoning.”
She blinked at him, her face a blank. “What?”
“Exhaust fumes were getting into your car somehow. You breathed in too much CO.”
“I felt tired, thought it was making love instead of sleeping,” she slurred, as her head lolled against his chest.
“No.”
“Glad.”
“You’re glad you’ve been poisoned?” he asked incredulously.
“Didn’t want to give up making love.”
He squeezed her tight, making her cough. “My chest hurts.”
“I’m sorry, baby.”
He stopped in front of the nurse’s station, ignoring the admitting desk entirely. “She needs to be put on oxygen immediately.”
The duty nurse looked up, her expression harried. “Is she breathing?”
“Yes.”
“Then you’ll have to take her to the admitting desk.”
“Like hell. She’s suffering from carbon monoxide poisoning and we’ve got to get it out of her body right now.”
Joshua was used to being obeyed and whether it was the tone of voice he used in the field or the look in his eye that promised retribution if she denied him, the duty nurse did not argue again. She called for a gurney and oxygen, stat.
“Joshua…”
“What?”
“I’m going to be sick.”
He looked at the nurse. She pointed to a doorway across the hall and he sprinted. He made it just in time.
“How is she?”
Joshua turned his head at the sound of Nitro’s voice. “Better.”
She’d been on oxygen for a couple of hours now, and he was finally starting to breathe easier himself. A lot of people did not realize the brain damage that exposure to carbon monoxide could cause, but he did and he’d been worried spitless for her.
Lise went to take the mask from her face and he grabbed her hand. “No.”
She kept trying to talk and he’d told her to keep quiet or he was going to leave and wait in the hall outside so she wouldn’t have anyone to talk to. She needed to concentrate on breathing only, clearing her body of the CO.
She glared at him now, still mad about the threat.
He wasn’t the most diplomatic man around, but she’d get over her irritation.
“I feel fine,” she said through the muffled cup of the oxygen mask.
Right. She looked like she’d fall flat on her face if she tried to stand.
“You’re keeping the mask on.” And he put his hand on her cheek, his finger pressed gently against the elastic band that held the mask in place to make sure.
“You’re worse than a mother hen,” she grumbled.
“And you’re too damned complacent about your own well-being. Now stop talking or I’ll have this conversation with Nitro in the hall.”
Just as it had before, the threat worked.
Her mouth snapped shut and formed a thin line while golden sparks let him know she would exact retribution for his high-handed behavior later.
He almost smiled at the prospect, but he was a stubborn man, not a stupid one.
He turned to Nitro, who stood at the foot of Lise’s bed, eyeing Joshua and Lise with a knowing look.
He chose to ignore it. “Did you have the car towed?”
“Yes.”
“Nemesis didn’t make a play for the transmitter?”
“No.”
Hotwire had kept her apartment under surveillance from the inside and would stay there, but Joshua had little hope of Nemesis falling neatly into the trap.
“Find the source of the exhaust leak.”
Nitro nodded. “Watch over her,” he said with a nod toward Lise, and then left.
“Do you think it was Nemesis?” she asked.
His thumb rubbed along her jawline and he was struck anew by the delicacy of her. “Yes.”
It might be too soon to be making assumptions, but he knew what his gut was telling him. And it was telling him that she wasn’t going back to her apartment again.
Dark circles marked the skin beneath her eyes and she looked a lot more fragile than she would admit to being. He still couldn’t believe she’d balked at staying overnight, but he’d insisted and she’d given in. She hadn’t thought she needed oxygen all night, but he’d known better.
So had the ER doctor who had examined her.
Her eyes drooped.
“Why don’t you get some sleep, honey?” Rest and oxygen were the best things for her right now.
“Will you stay?” she asked.
“Of course.” He couldn’t believe she thought she needed to ask. Maybe she was still confused from the carbon monoxide poisoning.