She had planned to make the trip from Birmingham to Huntsville, a two-hour trek, with the twins. Clint wouldn’t hear of it. Again, he threatened to make a scene if she didn’t do as he commanded.
This was going to have to stop. She couldn’t allow him to hold what he knew over her head indefinitely! He had the power to blow her cover, to send her quarry under so deep she’d never find him.
“We can go back to the ranch for a couple of days,” he said, his eyes on the highway before him. “Some of the rodeo workers will be in Huntsville and setting up by tomorrow morning, but most take a day or two off between shows.”
“I can’t take any time off,” she said. “You know that.”
“Everybody needs a little downtime now and then,” he argued in a sensible voice. “Even you.”
She wasn’t a big believer in vacations or days off. Her job helped her to forget. Working was her crutch, her place to hide.
“We need to talk,” she said tersely.
“Go right ahead,” Clint responded casually, as if everything between them was perfectly normal. What was he thinking? Nothing between them had ever been normal.
In her mind, she had this speech well rehearsed. Would anything she said make a difference? She had to try. “You have got to stop this.”
“Stop what?”
His casual response made her angry. “Getting in the way, for one thing! Every time I turn around, you’re there. Watching. Staring at me. Following me around as if I need a bodyguard.”
Again, he remained calm. “You do need a bodyguard.”
She turned her head to gaze out the window. Trees, tall and green, lined the interstate. It was summer, the trees were in full leaf, and it seemed as if there was nothing else anywhere near but the cars Clint passed. On a Monday morning, traffic was sparse. What kind of argument could she offer, besides threatening to have Clint arrested?
It had been right to bring things between them to a halt. Even though she missed being with him, she knew ending it had been the right thing to do. Clint distracted her. He made her think that she was missing something…something like a life beyond her job. It would be too easy to fall into his arms every night, hide in his bed, let him hide in her body… It would just be too easy….
The cell phone he’d placed on the seat between them rang, and he answered quickly. Mary’s first thought was of Katie and Wes, her second of the very pregnant Jayne Sinclair. Since Clint didn’t chat casually on his cell phone, she figured that whatever this call was about, it was important.
All she could hear, of course, was Clint’s side of the conversation.
“Hello…what?” His eyes cut her way, his jaw tensed. “No. Not yet. I’ll call you back.”
He turned off the cell phone, glared at her and without warning pulled the truck sharply off the road. She grabbed onto the door handle to keep from being tossed around, his change of direction was so fierce.
“Out,” he said curtly as the truck came to a jerking halt.
For a moment, Mary thought he actually intended to leave her stranded on the side of the road…then he turned off the engine, exited from the driver’s side and rounded the front of the truck to stalk into the tall grass on the shoulder of the road, pushing his fingers through his hair in obvious exasperation.
Mary threw open her door and stepped down. “What’s wrong?” Again, she thought of Jayne and Katie and their babies.
When Clint turned to face her, she knew the pregnant women had nothing to do with him pulling the truck off the road.
He stared at her, hard, for a long moment. “I understand you’re on an extended leave of absence from the FBI.”
She felt the blood drain from her face. All along, she had known that Clint wouldn’t help her if he knew she was pursuing this case on her own. “I can explain.”
“You can explain,” he repeated, taking a long step toward her. “You’re risking your life hunting down a sick serial killer on your own. You’ve put your life on the line for a man who rapes and then carves up or strangles his victims, a butcher you called him, and you stand here and tell me you can explain?”
Her only way out of this was to reason with him, rationally and calmly. “I had a theory about the killings, but no one would believe me. I didn’t have enough for the authorities to admit that they’d put two innocent men in prison. So yes, I’m on a leave of absence. I’m spending my vacation time trying to find a serial killer. It doesn’t change the fact that I’m right, or that if I don’t find this guy, he’s going to kill again.”
She could see that Clint was not moved. “It’s over. I’ll see Oliver as soon as we get to Huntsville and I’m going to tell him everything. You’re out,” he said, leaning down toward her.
Her heart began to kick. She wanted to argue rationally, she wanted to remain cool and detached. But inside, she was anything but detached. “Don’t do this to me,” she whispered. “Please.”
“I fell for that sweet please once, darlin’, but it won’t happen again.”
“Why are you doing this to me?” Panic welled up inside her. She was so close. She’d never be this close again. This was her chance, her only chance.
“Why?” Clint repeated, growing angrier as the moments ticked past. “You want to know why it’s important to me that you keep yourself safe? Because I think I love you!” he shouted.
She flinched.
“Not what you expected me to say, I’m guessing,” he muttered in a calmer voice.
“It’s just…not a good time.”
“Not a good time.” He laughed hoarsely and ran his fingers through his hair again. “Is there ever a good time to have your life turned upside down and inside out?”
“I guess not.”
He laid one hand on her face and made her look him in the eye. “I can’t let you do this. I can’t.” His other hand reached out to touch her stomach, very lightly. His fingertips brushed against her blouse and the skin beneath. “A couple of nights ago, I was inside you. No protection, nothing between us. Just you and me. What if we made a baby?”
Mary shook her head. “That’s unlikely,” she said quickly. “It was just that once.”
“Unlikely, maybe, but not impossible,” Clint argued. “What if I let you continue and something happens, and it’s not only you I lose but our baby, too?”
Another wave of panic swelled inside her. “There is no baby!”
“You don’t know that,” he whispered. “Maybe I’ve been spending too much time around Katie and Jayne. I’ve never given much thought to babies before.”
She shook her head. “We can’t talk about babies, Clint. And you can’t start shouting orders at me. Back off and let me do my job.”
“No,” he said in a firmer voice. “I can’t stand back and let you put yourself in danger!”
“It’s my life!”
“It’s mine, too.”
Her world was falling apart, one piece at a time. Everything she wanted was so close, and Clint was going to ruin it. “You can’t do this to me,” she whispered.
“I can.” He turned his back on her and started to walk away.
“No!” She ran for Clint, threw herself at him and knocked him flat on the ground. Since she had the element of surprise on her side, she managed to knock the air out of him. They struggled, briefly, and he ended up on his back, on the ground, and she straddled him. Her every breath was deep as she tried to push her panic down. A semi flew past, and a rush of warm wind washed over them both.
“You don’t understand.” Her words were caught on the wind that died as quickly as it had come.
Clint didn’t try to push her off, he didn’t tell her that he didn’t care to understand. He wrapped one hand around her wrist, manacled her with gentle, firm fingers, and said, “Explain it to me.”
She’d never said the words out loud. They’d been in her mind, in her heart, but she’d never spoken about this to anyone. Mary stared down, looking into Clint’s green eyes. They were nice eyes, kind eyes. Was there any truth in what he said? Love. Was it a word he’d use to control her? Or was there a touch of the truth in his angry words? She wasn’t ready to say the words out loud, might never be ready…but there was a very good chance she was falling in love with him, too.
As she began to speak tears filled her eyes. “Elaine was the seventh victim. She was murdered last year.”
“You knew her,” Clint said gently.
Mary nodded, and tears ran down her face. “We went to college together. Over the years we talked on the phone and e-mailed and exchanged Christmas cards. She was…” Her heart lurched as she began to sob quietly. “Sweet. Elaine was always quiet and shy and sweet.”
“I’m sorry.”
“That’s not enough!” Now that the tears had started, they wouldn’t stop. “Sorry. Everybody’s sorry!” It was her own failing that made her so angry she couldn’t focus properly on Clint’s face. “I should’ve known. I should’ve been able to save her.”
“You couldn’t know…”
She slapped Clint on the chest. “He picked Elaine because she was expendable! No one missed her for days! I should have been there for her, I should have stopped him!” Again, she hit Clint on the chest. Her eyes were so filled with tears the man beneath her was a blur. She wanted to be strong, to be solid and emotionless, but she had started to sob and she couldn’t stop. “She was my friend, and I wasn’t there for her. No one was there for her. She was expendable. Someone should have been there for her. Someone should have known she was gone.” Inside, she felt as if she were literally falling apart. “It’s just not fair,” she whispered hoarsely. “I couldn’t save Rick, and I couldn’t save Elaine, and…and…”
Clint slowly sat up, wrapping his arms around her, and pulled her face to his shoulder. For a moment or two she fought him. She wasn’t a little girl, she didn’t want any man to take care of her. But he stroked her back and she gave in. She wept hard, she sobbed until she ached all over.
She clutched Clint’s shirt in her hands, held on tight while she cried. She hadn’t cried in so long, she hated to cry! But she couldn’t stop. She wept until she didn’t have any tears left, and all the while Clint cradled her against his body and whispered soothing nonsense into her ear.
When the tears stopped and the sobbing ended, Mary lifted her head to look Clint in the eye. She knew she was a mess, red-eyed and puffy. Her nose was running, her breath kept hitching.
“Don’t take this away from me,” she whispered.
“Do you know how hard it is for me to watch you do this?” He brushed back a strand of hair that had fallen across her cheek. “Do you know how much it hurts to watch you put yourself in danger? And if…”
“No ifs,” she interrupted. She couldn’t deal with the idea of a baby right now. No matter how unlikely the concept, no matter how frightening…it was a possibility she could not even consider.
Clint didn’t answer for a while. He touched her, he frowned. He muttered beneath his breath. “All right,” he finally said. “I won’t blow your cover. I won’t yank the rug out from under you.”
She nodded, relieved and near tears all over again.
“But darlin’, you have to let me help.”
Mary glared at him when they checked into the hotel near the Von Braun Center in Huntsville. Yes, he had requested connecting rooms again. If she didn’t like it that was too bad. There was no way he could let her out of his sight—especially not now.
She was working alone. The very idea gave him the shivers. If she was right about her serial killer being with the rodeo, she had exposed herself in the worst way. Without backup. Without authority. She insisted she was only gathering information, searching for evidence, but he didn’t believe her. When she’d broken down in his arms, she’d revealed too much. This case was much too personal to her. She was way too close.
Once they’d gotten back on the interstate, after he’d confronted Mary with the truth, her tears had dried and she’d spent the next hour staring out the passenger side window. Was she angry that he knew her secret? Or embarrassed that she’d broken down in front of him? He had a feeling Mary made damn sure she only cried when she was alone.
They’d ignored his unplanned confession once they were back on the highway. Love? No way. He cared about Mary, he truly did, and there were moments he was certain she was an important part of his life and would be for some time to come. But love? No. He’d fallen into that trap too quickly once before and he’d been burned. Maybe the “I think” had saved him. Maybe Mary was going to be just as anxious to forget the moment as he was.
He was surprised that she knocked on the connecting door before he had a chance to.
When he opened the door, she walked into his room. “Not bad,” she said, glancing around his room with a critical eye and refusing to look directly at him.
“You’re sure you don’t want to go back to the ranch for a couple of days?” he said to her back as she walked toward the windows and pulled back the drapes to look down on the parking lot.
“I need to be here to see who’s around and who’s not, just in case…” She faltered. “Just in case he took someone in Birmingham.” She trembled gently and then tried to hide her telling reaction. Clint knew that if another woman died before Mary found her man she would blame herself for not finding him in time. She didn’t need that horror, on top of so many others.
He nodded. “All right. You’re calling the shots here.”
Mary turned to face him, allowing the drapes to fall shut. She wasn’t the cool, sexy woman he’d met in Shea’s living room. He knew her too well to be fooled by the facade she’d built for herself. She was still sexy, in her jeans and white buttoned-up shirt, she still had a figure that would stop traffic. But inside she was anything but cool. The emotion she tried to hide simmered, warm and real, close to boiling over. That emotion made her vulnerable, and Special Agent Mary Paris did not want to be vulnerable. She didn’t want anyone to know that she could be hurt.
“I can call Boone and Dean,” he said.
“No,” she insisted quickly. “No one else. Just you and me, Clint. I can’t afford to stir things up, and if those brothers of yours are hanging around…”
“I got it,” he said. “You don’t want to scare off your suspect. But I have to tell Dean something. If I don’t, he might mention your presence here to someone who shouldn’t know, and that would make a mess for you, I imagine.”
Mary remained stoic. Stubborn. “My supervisor knows that I’m here to gather information. I can do whatever I want to on my own time.”
“You’re not just gathering information,” he accused. He’d seen her reaction this morning, knew how very personal this was to her. She was the kind of woman who would do anything to get what she wanted, or to catch the man she hunted.
“I am,” she said softly. “All I need is something new to take to the bureau. Something solid. I just need to find something that will force them to take a good hard look at Brisco.”
“You really think it’s Oliver, don’t you.” He couldn’t imagine anyone he knew doing the things Mary’s killer had done. Oliver was brusque at times, but he wasn’t the kind of man who would do something so cruel, so violent.
Mary nodded. “He’s still my primary suspect. Did you know his ex-wife?”
“No. They were divorced before I joined the rodeo. I never met her.”
There was a new twinkle in Mary’s eyes, a light that was almost mischievous. “It was a very ugly divorce.”
“Lots of men go through ugly divorces and they don’t turn into psychos.”
“I know that.” Mary claimed a chair by the window and stretched out her blue-jeaned legs. He wanted to join her, pull her to her feet and drag her into this bed. He didn’t want to talk about killers, evidence and danger. He wanted to make her forget.
“Four years ago, the ex Mrs. Brisco showed up at the beginning of the tour,” Mary said in a businesslike voice. “She raised some kind of a stink. I’ve asked around, but no one seems to remember exactly what she did. They only remember that Brisco was furious that she was hanging around.”
“Did you ask him about it?”
She looked horrified. “Of course not!”
Clint sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. “That’s really not much in the way of evidence, Mary. Even I know that.”
“Kristin Brisco is blond, pretty and given to wearing fancy, dangling earrings.”
“Like the victims,” Clint said.
“Like the victims.”
“That seems pretty flimsy to me.”
“It is,” Mary said. “But it’s all I’ve got.”
No, that wasn’t all she had. She had him, well and good. She had him wrapped around her little finger.
That didn’t mean he had to play her way. “All right. I’ll watch your back. I’ll see what I can find out as far as old gossip goes. But Mary, one thing has changed.”
She looked very suspicious. “What’s that?”
“You will no longer make yourself appear to be expendable.”
She pursed her lips but said nothing.
“By nightfall, everyone will know that we’re sleeping together.”
“Clint!”
“We’re involved, we’re serious and if you went missing I would most definitely notice.”
“I could tell everyone you’re imagining things.”
Clint grinned at her. “You could. Think anyone would buy it?” He expected a heated argument, but Mary accepted his edict with surprising grace.
Maybe she was afraid he’d pull out the possibility of a baby as ammunition if she didn’t back down gracefully.
He knew she was right; it was a definite long shot. But they had been together without protection that one time, and it was a possibility.
One that should have terrified him, but did not.
He smiled at the jeweler. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m looking for.”
The thin little jeweler, a man in his sixties, boxed the gold earrings.
With a continuing smile, he counted out the bills. A small gift for Mary, that wouldn’t be too far out of bounds. And she would love the earrings. They’d be beautiful on her, gold swinging from her delicate earlobes and catching the light as she walked. There was something so erotic about pale hair and gold earrings lying across his pillow. At the moment, he could very well imagine Mary’s blond hair and these earrings on his pillow.
When he left the store, he removed his purchase from the jewelry store box, dropped the earrings into his pocket without touching them and discarded the box in a nearby garbage can. Sitting inside his car, he pulled on a pair of rubber gloves before removing the earrings from his pocket. One could not be too careful.
Hands properly covered, he carefully placed the earrings in a small, unmarked box. With his gloved hands, he dropped the new box into a plain brown paper bag, folded down the ends as if he were packing a lunch for himself, and then took his pen and wrote Mary on the side of the bag.
She would be so pleased with the gift, and she would look so pretty in the new earrings.
This week he would dance with her again. Perhaps on Friday, perhaps Saturday. He would wait for the proper opportunity to arise. And when the week was done and the rodeo packed up and left town, he’d take her away for a few days. He never had a problem taking a couple of days between shows if he needed the time. Mary would wear his gift, and he’d seduce her. He had a special place planned for her. A secluded place. Everything was arranged. They’d be alone.
And when their long weekend was through, if she didn’t love him as madly as he had come to love her…he’d kill her.