Chapter Fifteen

 

 

 

The restaurant William took her too ended up being an old-fashioned steakhouse with a big, burly man greeting them as soon as they walked inside the dim interior. The walls were high, but painted black with dull, off-yellow lights in the ancient chandeliers hovering from the depths of the ceiling. Even the frosted casings around the light bulbs were a murky cream, limiting the light even more. She had to pause to adjust her eyes.

Outside of three booths against the far wall, two high tables with bar stools near the L-shaped bar and a pool table shoved in the back near a hallway to the bathrooms, there wasn’t much to the place. Someone had hung old Dr. Pepper and Squirt posters alongside photos of smiling customers. Mixed in with those were pin-up girls from a nineteen forties or fifties calendar. The windows were painted over with reddish-black with two big bull’s eyes drawn on them, as if daring anyone to throw someone through them.

Basically, the place was a dive.

William stayed with her, on her right side, and talked with the owner.

“Madison, man, it’s good to see you’re still keeping yourself in shape,” William said to the burly, very, very out of shape owner. He had a gray biker mustache that he’d let grow past his chin. With his triple extra-large leather vest and checkered button-down and faded jeans he must have purchased at a big and tall shop, he was a big guy. He wasn’t exactly fat. He was large.

“Boy, I can beat you sideways and still go ‘round the mats with Carson after.”

She blinked when William laughed and slapped the guy on the shoulder. “Good to know. You still have a double barrel under the bar?”

“Of course. Am I going to need it?”

“We hope not. Sara, this is Terry Madison, a good friend.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Madison said so formally she blinked and let him shake her hand. “Come on, we’ll get you settled before the crowds show up.”

They were the only customers in the place, besides the three men sitting at a booth against the back wall.

“No one else is coming here today. He’s kidding around.” William walked her forward, with the owner following them. Every one of the men stood as they approached.

Instantly, she was uncomfortable, especially knowing that these men had probably watched her through their hidden cameras. As desperately as she tried, she couldn’t remember if she’d walked out of her room in her panties and bra or not and the worry had her sweating. Jones winked at her.

William grew serious again. “Make sure no one else comes in to ruin our party.”

“Just so you don’t actually shoot anyone, Madison,” the oldest of the three men cautioned. He faced her right after and she re-evaluated the age thing. He might’ve been older than William, but he couldn’t have been more than forty-one or two, tops, no matter how much gray he had in his hair. “Ms. Stevens, I’m Commander Carson, these are two members of the team Will outlined for you. Troy Howell and Duncan Jones. There is also a team surrounding the area.”

“Great for business.” Madison shot her a big-toothed grin. “But I’m not complaining. Carson always pays the bill. Order what you want off the menu, but the T-bone is gonna be your best bet.”

“You have a cook on today?” William asked.

“Margie never leaves this place, you know that.” Madison landed a bear-sized hand on William’s shoulder. She thought William stumbled a bit more than necessary but she fought a grin at Madison’s obvious enjoyment of William’s wince. “Can barely get her home to cook for me.”

“Then I’ll have two of those, with the fixings. Soda or beer?”

“I’m fine—”

“Get her an iced tea, one of those ones with raspberry,” Troy Howell said. He looked…familiar. He’d been near her home. His blond hair was cut shorter, with that front thing guys did to the top to make it look messy. He had an odd semi-circular scar on the left side of his chin, she remembered too. He caught her looking and stuck out his hand for her to shake. “We met when I was walking a dog near the park next to your home.”

She shook his hand quickly and dropped hers right after. He seemed to be waiting for something. “Yes, I remember now.”

“I work the computers on this so we can track anyone that comes too close,” Jones offered.

“She’s not too pleased with the camera feeds, Jones.” William spoke quietly, but she thought his tone was laced with a great deal of satisfaction.

Jones widened his eyes and stuck up his hands like she’d pointed a gun at him. “I’m sorry about that, but it’s necessary. Believe me, what we’re doing is trying to catch this guy, not watch you for amusement.”

She tightened her hands on her sleeves at his words and William surprised her by taking one hand in his.

“Okay, enough making your apologies. She’s gonna need results to forgive the invasions, right? Come on, we can sit and get comfortable,” he added to her. “You like raspberry tea?”

“Not really.” She smiled at his quick blink. “I’d rather have a beer, but if I have one, I might not stop.”

His smile transformed him from cool, in-charge superhero to a guy who was sharing a joke with her. “Yeah, maybe we wait on that, and I’ll even do the same. But once this is over, okay?”

He helped her to the booth then immediately sat next to her so she had to scoot to the wall. He took up the rest of the booth, forcing Jones to grab a chair so he could join them, while the other two took the opposite side. Troy gave her an odd frown, but she avoided his eyes to settle her purse between her and William.

“Here, you want me to hang that up?” William offered, taking it.

“No. I’ve got it.” She grabbed it back and stuck it next to the wall because he’d erased any room between them. He lifted a dark eyebrow but let her keep her purse.

He settled his hands on the surprisingly clean table top and she tried her best not to notice how hot he looked when he did it.

“So, we have any sightings?”

“None.” Jones shook his head. “The area is hard to keep on a schedule, but it’s not unmanageable.”

“What that means is that your street is often used as a through-fare to bigger streets,” Troy offered. He spoke as if she was hard of hearing, or so freaked out she might fall apart on them. The latter might’ve been true because she was stuck in a booth with them, and the only way out was to ask William to get up. But the drive here had actually been pleasant—all except spilling her guts and crying but even that had given her a sense of relief, not panic.

“So, that means there are a lot of strangers on your street. A lot of drive-by cars, and sometimes people park on the street and walk down to the stores on the main street.” Carson drilled his fingers on the surface of the table and narrowed his eyes. “What is your sense, Ms. Stevens? Are you aware of anything different in your neighborhood?”

“Other than William showing up and telling me you’ve been watching my house without me knowing, you mean?” she asked, then dropped her gaze, shocked at being so forward with these men.

“Snap,” she thought she heard Jones murmur, but William shifted and distracted her.

William sighed. “Let’s concentrate on my suggestions. If we move her to a location we can more easily patrol, our chances of catching him increase. We lead him in and when he comes, we’re ready.”

“You’re going to use me as bait?” she demanded.

William furrowed his brow as if she’d said something in a foreign language. No doubt he knew a few, too.

“Can you even be sure if you dangle me out there that you’ll be able to reel him in? And keep me in one piece? I’ve fished before, for your information, William Bryson, and when I caught a fish, it usually swallowed my worm whole.”

Someone coughed loudly sounding like they’d covered a laugh. Their drinks arrived and interrupted her from supplying them all with a bit more common sense.

“We have to set up a situation where we can be assured of reaching our objective. The target knows who we are. He also believes he’s smarter. So, we’re going to use that to draw him closer so we can take him out. It’s a matter of forcing him to where we want him. We’re not fishing.”

“It sounds like you are. With my life, too. Tell me something.” She ignored her raspberry iced tea and the other men at the table to concentrate on William’s dark eyes. “Can you assure me one hundred percent that he won’t slide through all your technology and your men? That simple.” She snapped her fingers. “Can you assure me one hundred percent I won’t wake up in a little shop of horrors with no hope of escape?”

William grunted. “No one can promise you that, but neither can they guarantee you that you’re safe if you stay in your home. I can stay with you, and follow you to school every day, but there is always, always going to be a chance he gains the ten seconds to make you disappear.”

She snorted at the Mary Had a Little Lamb reference, but wasn’t convinced leaving everything she’d worked so hard for was the answer. On the drive there, she’d finally voiced her biggest fears. Since she’d moved, she’d felt security begin to return. What if Potter was gone? Vanished in the fire and someone else, another sick psychopath was out there killing people the same way Potter had? It could be true. It’d been months since those white roses. And those men fighting could have truly been drunks, drinking something too powerful they’d purchased.

“I’m telling you that you are not safe on Birch Street. I understand you’ve built a life there, but there are too many variables. Your students’ parents, the other teachers, janitors, administration, let alone neighbors, store clerks and, hell, desperate people willing to do anything for a buck, are too varied for us to assure you that you are one hundred percent safe even if Ashton fucking Potter wasn’t after you.”

“Will.” Carson’s tone silenced him, but she could still see the tension in his tight posture.

“Don’t swear at me, William.”

He grimaced and dropped his head so she couldn’t see his face, but not quickly enough for her to miss the twist of a smile. “If I swear at you, you’ll know. I wasn’t. Neither was I candy coating it for you. You’re not safe. You’re either going to go along with what we plan, or you’re going to die, a slow, very painful death.” He lifted his head and she shrank back from the anger in his expression. “It’s that simple.”

He was serious. She shivered. But this time instead of wanting to run, to get up, to do anything but sit here and break down crying, she listened.

If William felt this strongly about it, then she had to trust that he knew. I was being watched and never knew it. What if I’m being watched by him as well and don’t know?

“All right then. Stop asking me what to do, and tell me what to do so that doesn’t happen.”

The men exhaled heavily, relieved, she guessed, but the only one she bothered with was William. He didn’t sigh, he nodded and it was a promise she knew he’d keep. “Good. Now, let’s see if we can’t avoid that, and still keep your ass safe.”

Well, for a hero William sure didn’t sweet talk, she thought philosophically, over her steak—the best she’d ever had in her life. But he sure knew how to make a girl’s toes curl. He scared her, too. She worried now that if he had to die to protect her, he would. The enormity of that worry needed to be addressed soon. She’d do it on the drive back to her house, only the more the men talked, the more she realized that might not happen.

“There’s a place up near Jansen—”

William stopped Jones with a shake of his head. “Not getting her close to Paris. Jansen wouldn’t allow it either.” William made it sound as if she had leprosy. “He’s up to his ears in worry over her already. If we moved closer, he’d want to bring her with him to wherever the f—he’s taking Paris. That won’t solve this. It will only postpone it.”

She sipped her tea, hiding a smile at his effort not to swear. It was cute. William was a big, solid man’s man. He probably cursed and spit and all those guy things that were frowned on by more civilized, softer men. She loved it. She also had the impression he already had somewhere picked out and that Carson and Jones didn’t like it, or were subtly arguing over the location. Troy was silent, sitting across from her and occasionally meeting her eyes.

“What about back near your place in Wyoming?” Jones asked Troy. “He’s been near there before. He might even feel safe. We have Troy come by, offer his place and you two take off, driving there.”

Driving? From Florida? She must have moaned loud enough for William to hear.

He took her hand under the table, sneaky like and squeezed her fingers gently. “That’s one hell of a drive.”

“But it would create a clear trail. If you were followed, we’d pick it up.” Jones sounded excited.

She threaded her fingers through his when he tried to take his hand back. He froze next to her and she thought he held his breath. It was such an odd response for a man so big and strong.

“True,” Carson muttered. “If we could set up three, four teams to come on the scene as travelers, we’d get an idea of where Potter is, and how he’s getting there. If he uses the highway, we’d have him within minutes.”

Will shook his head. “He’s not going to make this easy, Carson. You and I both know that. But he will foul up, and when he does, we have him. But we pick the location.”

“There’s no vehicle registered to his name, but there never has been,” Jones said, building up steam. “He’s relied on other transportation, planes, up until he ended up on the top ten most wanted. He hides better than Santa Claus in the summer.”

She studied the computer guy. He did look like one, with his slim build and long-fingered hands. He even had a habit of tapping the table as if he was missing his keyboard. He’d pulled out his cell phone at least fifty times over the past hour, and she knew he was itching to get out of here. She knew she was. But she stayed still and let them talk. No one other than Troy had talked to her since she and William had their little discussion. When he did, she could feel William tense where his thigh rested against hers.

“Well, if we drive, he might have to drive, as well. Especially if we ditch the idea of giving him a location first,” she offered.

She hadn’t expected everyone but William to drop everything to focus on her. “What I mean is, why not go exploring America? It is my spring break next week. William’s returned from being gone. We’re supposed to be a happy couple. William already asked if I could get off a few days early. It would make sense that we would go see the country, right? I mean, William is American.”

“You’re American, too, right?” Troy asked and laughed lightly.

William’ leg hardened against hers as he shifted forward to rest his elbows on either side of his plate. “She’s American and Canadian.”

The tension grew to something uncomfortable, but Jones didn’t seem to notice. He pulled out his phone, staring at the screen. “Yeah, that’s good. We could play it as a vacation. You two could stay a few nights at different spots like you’re camping.”

“It would allow us more coverage, Ms. Stevens.” Carson sounded hesitant. She sensed something else was there.

“Well?” she asked, daring to turn so she could meet William’s eyes. Sitting next to him had made it hard to see his face. She moved so she could lean against the wall and draw one foot up to tuck it under the other, half Indian-style on the booth.

William sat back and folded his arms over his broad chest, but he gave her his full attention. Men like these seemed to prefer that position, she noticed. “You like camping?”

“Love it.” She didn’t care one way or the other what they did, as long as it got them to locations they could catch Potter.

“Yeah, I bet. Well, we’ll try for cabins, how’s that? Or an RV.”

“This isn’t a honeymoon, Will.” Troy all but growled. “We need locations and details so we can set up campers before you arrive. The last thing we want is to find out after that Potter was near and we missed him.”

“Ranger, I know that better than I know which way is north.” William lowered his arms, and arrogant as heck, added, “You have that location on Potter, yet?”

“If I had a location on the little—Potter, I wouldn’t be sitting here,” Troy snapped.

The tension grew worse until Carson muttered both men’s names—last names—in a tone that spoke volumes she didn’t understand, but seemed to stop them. If she hadn’t known better, she’d think that Troy was…flirting with her.

Well, at least I’m not scared. The thought made her duck her head to hide a smile. It was true, though. She hadn’t experienced a panic attack all day. Not on the drive, and not surrounded by strangers. Instead of being consumed with fear she was hyper-aware of everything William did—from shifting his thigh next to hers, to how he tensed whenever Troy spoke to her. The charged atmosphere at the table made her uneasy, but not frightened.

“Why not start out from here?” Jones asked, clearly so involved in his cell phone, he wasn’t reading the table vibes very well. “I can predict locations that would be the best security wise, and you and Ms. Stevens could stay there. We let him in on the first stop, then go on blind from there. If you left now, it would be an easy drive from here to the—”

“What? Now? No way can we go now. I have to get things.”

William focused on her with all his attention.

She could tell he was going to argue, so she shook her head. “And I have to call in to take off the two days. It’s not spring break until Wednesday. I can’t…leave.”

Obviously, the group of men thought differently. Even Jones looked up at her from his phone.

“Right, so that’s that.” William surprised her. She’d been sure he would disagree. Instead he seemed to relax. The other men all started talking about the plan, filling in more details and discussing more what if’s.

“William, I have to, you know, use the ladies room,” Sara whispered while they were busy.

William immediately slid out of the booth then held out a hand to help her as if she might not be able to get to her feet. She shivered when she took his warm, calloused hand, and a rush of wicked heat tickled its way down her body. He held her hand a second longer than necessary then released her but stayed in her bubble of personal space.

“If you see Madison, ask for the bill.” He winked when she nodded since he’d stolen her ability to speak coherently. The closeness of him did it. He smelled—strong—if that were a scent. Safe. It was warm and subtle, as if he could reach out and hold her tightly and everything—all the danger, all the fear—would disappear. “You’re doing fine. I know you would prefer to stay in your own home, but this is gonna be safer, okay?”

“Okay,” she managed getting a bit light-headed from being close to him for so long. If she’d drawn a deep breath their chests would’ve touched.

“Good.” He squeezed her arm and stepped back. The room returned, and thankfully the men were all talking quietly a few feet away. “Madison should be in the kitchen, probably getting ready for the crowds.”

She scanned the bar then William’s face to see if he was teasing her. It was hard to tell. He was a powerful force of nature. Meeting his eyes caused a tornado of emotions and sensations to run riot.

“Sure thing.”

She headed across the room, a little stiff from sitting so long, but needing distance from the temptation of his strength. He wanted her to lean on him. She feared once she did, he’d become necessary, vital even. Can’t let him in. I can’t.

Madison wasn’t in the kitchen when she peeked through the double doors into the surprisingly clean and organized interior. There was a huge wood-fed grill in there though that looked absolutely amazing. There was also an industrial-sized soup pot on a six-burner stove, and cut up cabbage, for the coleslaw she guessed, on top of a cutting board along one side of a counter. The coleslaw had been so good she’d eaten all of hers and traded William her sweet potato for his. Impressed by how neat the kitchen was, but not seeing anyone inside, she debated walking in to find him, but her bladder protested.

First take care of business, then find him if he’s not already out and talking to the men.

She’d seen him going back and forth with cases of beer. She remembered that as she pushed in the bathroom door and walked right into a man trying to sneak out of a high window in the women’s room.