Tess ran away to D.C. when she was fifteen. Quickly, she had learned that she could make quite a bit of money doing what her uncle had taught her for free. Fifteen years old, and she was fucking congressmen and four-star generals. That was almost twenty years ago, and yet she had only recently found her escape from that life. She had finally begun a life that was her own. And she sure as hell would not end it here. Not now. Not in this remote grave where no one would ever notice.
She got to her feet and approached the woman. She squatted next to her and put a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“I don’t know if you can hear me. My name is Tess. I want you to know I’m going to get us out of here. I’m not going to leave you here to die.”
Tess pulled a branch closer so she could sit next to the woman in the sunlight. She needed to rest her ankle. She buried her toes into the mud. Despite the slimy earthworms against her skin, the mud did soothe the cracks and cuts and bruises on her feet.
She surveyed the jutting rocks and tree roots, trying to come up with a plan. Just when she began to think it would be impossible, the woman moved slightly to her side. Without opening her eyes, she said, “My name’s Rachel.”
CHAPTER 51
Maggie wasn’t sure what she expected. Could Albert Stucky or Walker Harding be stupid enough to get caught by the Newburgh Heights Police Department? Yet, when Manx showed her into the interrogation room, her heart sank. The handsome young man looked more like a college student than the hardened criminal Manx had described when he had insisted the man was guilty of something.
The kid even stood up when she entered the room, not able to stifle his good manners despite the situation.
“There’s been a huge misunderstanding,” he told her as if she was the new face of reason.
He wore khakis and a crew-neck sweater. Maybe this was what Manx expected burglars to wear in Newburgh Heights.
“Sit the hell down, kid,” Manx snapped at him as though he was jumping up to attack her.
Maggie walked around Manx and sat down at the table opposite the young man. He slid back into his chair, wringing his hands in front of him on the table, his eyes darting from Manx to the other two uniformed officers already in the room.
“I’m Special Agent Margaret O’Dell with the FBI.” She waited for his eyes to settle on hers.
“FBI?” He looked worried and fidgeted in his chair. “Something’s happened to Tess, hasn’t it?”
“I know you may have already explained all this, but how do you know Ms. McGowan, Mr.—”
“Finley. My name’s Will Finley. I met Tess last weekend.”
“Last weekend? So you haven’t been friends for very long. Did she show you a piece of real estate?”
“Excuse me?”
“Ms. McGowan is a real estate agent. Did she show you a house last weekend?”
“No. We met at a bar. We…we spent the night together.”
Maggie wondered if it was a lie. Tess McGowan hadn’t looked like the barfly type. Plus, she guessed Tess to be close to her own age. She couldn’t imagine Tess giving this college kid a second glance. Unless she had been trying to get back at her big-shot, country-club boyfriend. Of course, she also couldn’t imagine Tess McGowan with the guy who Agent Tully called an arrogant asshole. But then she realized she really hadn’t taken time to get to know anything about Tess McGowan. Nevertheless, she was certain Will Finley had nothing to do with Tess’s disappearance. Now she was glad she hadn’t dragged Tully away from lunch with his daughter for this.
“What’s happened to Tess?” Will Finley wanted to know. He looked genuinely concerned.
“Maybe you ought to be tellin’ us,” Manx said from behind Maggie.
“How many times do I have to tell you? I didn’t do anything to her. I haven’t seen her since Monday morning. She hasn’t returned any of my phone calls. I was worried about her.” He scraped a shaking hand over his face.
Maggie wondered how long they had kept him here. He looked exhausted, his nerves frayed. She knew after enough hours of the same questions, in the same room, sitting in the same position, that the most innocent of men could break down.
“Will.” She waited again for his eyes. “We’re not sure what happened to Tess, but she is missing. I’m hoping you might be able to help us find her.”
He stared at her as though he wasn’t sure whether to believe her or if this was a trick.
“Is there anything you can remember?” she continued, keeping her voice calm and steady, unlike Manx’s. “Anything you might be able to tell us that could help us find her?”
“I’m not sure. I mean, I really don’t know her very well.”
“Well enough to fuck her, though, right?” Manx said, insisting on playing out his role as the bad cop.
Maggie ignored him, though Will Finley stared at him and fidg-eted with the appropriate amount of guilt. Manx was right about the kid hiding something. It was the illicitness of the affair, not that he had hurt Tess.
“Where did you spend the night together?”
“Look, I know my rights, and I know I don’t have to answer these questions.” He sounded defensive now. Maggie didn’t blame him, especially since Manx treated him like a suspect.
“No, you don’t need to answer any of my questions. I just thought you might want to help us find her.” Maggie gently tried to persuade him.
“I don’t see how knowing where or when or how or what we did that night is going to help.”
“Hey, kid, you banged an older woman. You should be jumping at the chance to share the details.”
Maggie stood and faced Manx, trying to maintain her calm and bridle her impatience.
“Detective Manx, do you mind if I have a word with Mr. Finley alone?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“And why is that?”
“Well…” Manx hesitated while he manufactured a reason. She could practically hear his rusty gears grinding. “Might not be safe to leave you alone with him.”
“I’m an experienced FBI agent, Detective Manx.”
“You sure don’t dress like one, Agent O’Dell,” he said as he purposely let his eyes slide slowly over her body.
“Tell you what. I’ll take my chances with Mr. Finley.” She glanced over at the officers. “You gentleman can verify that I said that.”
Manx stalled, then finally waved the two officers out of the room. He followed but not before shooting a warning look in Finley’s direction.
“I’d apologize for Detective Manx, but that would mean I was trying to excuse his behavior, and quite honestly, there is no excuse for his behavior.”
She sat back down with a sigh and an absent rub at her eyes. When she looked up at Will Finley, he was smiling.
“I just realized who you are.”
“Excuse me?” Maggie asked.
“You and I have a mutual friend.”
The door opened again, and Maggie jumped to her feet, ready to snap at Manx. It was, instead, one of the other officers. His entire face seemed to be apologetic.
“Sorry, but the kid’s lawyer just got here. He’s insisting on seeing him before any more questioning is—”
“You shouldn’t be questioning him at all,” a voice from the hall interrupted. “At least not without his attorney present.” Nick Morrelli pushed past the officer and into the room. Immediately, his eyes found Maggie’s and his anger gave in to a smile. “Jesus, Maggie. We have to stop meeting like this.”
CHAPTER 52
Harvey greeted Nick at the door with an impressive growl, teeth bared and his upper lip curled back. Maggie smiled at Nick’s surprise even though she had warned him.
“I told you I have my own private bodyguard. Down, Harvey. Actually, we’re temporary roommates.” She petted the dog’s head, and his entire hind end started wagging. “Harvey, this is Nick. He’s one of the good guys.”
Nick extended an apprehensive hand for the dog to sniff. In seconds, Harvey decided
Nick deserved the royal treatment, and the dog stuck his snout in Nick’s crotch. Maggie laughed and pulled back on Harvey’s collar. Nick seemed more amused than embarrassed.
“So I see you have him checking out other things for you as well.”
His comment caught her off guard. She led Harvey into the living room, hoping Nick didn’t notice.
“I just moved in last week. I don’t have a lot of furniture yet. I barely got some of the blinds up late last night.”
“It’s an incredible house, Maggie,” he said, wandering into the sunroom and looking out at the backyard. “Pretty secluded. How safe is it?”
She looked up from the alarm system she was resetting. “About as safe as I would be anywhere. Cunningham has me under twenty-four-hour surveillance. Didn’t you notice the cable TV van down the street? He says it’s so we can catch Stucky, but I know he thinks it’ll protect me.”
“You don’t sound convinced.”
She opened her jacket to show him her revolver in her shoulder harness.
“This is the only thing that I find convincing these days.”
He smiled. “Geez, I get so turned on when you show me your gun.”
She found herself blushing from his innocent flirting. Immediately, she looked away. Damn it! She hated that he could get her pulse racing by his simple presence. Had it been a mistake to invite him here? Maybe she should have sent him back home to Boston with Will.
“I’m going to check if dinner is possible. I only have the very basics.” She retreated to the kitchen, wondering what she would do if he went beyond flirting. Would she remember to act sensibly? “Would you mind taking Harvey out in the backyard?”
“No, not at all.”
“His leash is by the back door. Press the green flashing button on the security system.”
“It’s a little like living in a fort.” He motioned to the sensors and the alarm boxes. “Are you okay with all this?”
“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”
He shrugged and met her eyes. She realized he was feeling helpless, as though there must be something he should be able to do.
“It’s part of the job, Nick. A lot of profilers live in gated communities or houses with elaborate alarm systems. After a while you get used to having an unpublished phone number and making certain your address isn’t listed in any directory. It’s all a part of my life, the part Greg didn’t want to deal with. Maybe he shouldn’t have had to deal with it. Maybe no one should.”
“Well, Greg was a fool,” he said as he snapped the leash onto Harvey’s collar. Harvey licked Nick’s hand in advanced appreciation. “But then, I sorta see Greg’s loss as my gain.” He smiled at her, then pushed the green button and let Harvey pull him into the backyard.
Maggie watched them, wondering what was it about this man and that lean body and those charming dimples that could so easily stir up feeling and emotions she hadn’t accessed in years? Was it just a physical attraction? Did he simply set off her hormones? Nothing more?
When she met Nick last fall in Platte City he was a cocky, arrogant sheriff with a playboy reputation. Immediately, she had been annoyed with herself for being attracted to his charm and classic good looks. But over the course of that terrifying, exhausting week, she had the opportunity to see a sensitive, caring man who truly wanted to do the right thing.
Before she left Nebraska, he had told her that he loved her. She wrote it off with all the other confusing emotions people think they feel after being thrown together during a crisis. In Kansas City, he said he still cared about her. Now that he knew she was divorcing Greg, she wondered what Nick’s intentions were. Did he really care about her, or was she only one more notch he wanted to carve in his bedpost?
It didn’t matter. She didn’t have the energy to entertain such thoughts. She needed to remain focused. She needed to start listening to her head and her gut, not her heart. And more importantly, she didn’t want to care about someone who Stucky could take away from her in a split second.
What Gwen had said last night about Stucky coming after her stayed with Maggie, gnawing at her. Although she honestly didn’t believe Gwen needed to worry. They all believed Stucky had chosen women who were mere acquaintances of hers, in order to make it impossible to predict who his next target might be. But the fact of the matter was, Maggie had few people she allowed into her life. Gwen claimed it was because she wasn’t over the loss of her father. What a bunch of psychobabble that was. Gwen believed that Maggie purposely made herself off-limits, emotionally, to her friends and co-workers. What Maggie called professional distancing, Gwen called fear of intimacy.
“If you don’t let people in, they can’t hurt you,” Gwen had lectured in her motherly tone. “But if you don’t let people in, they can’t love you either.”
Nick and Harvey were coming back, Harvey carrying the bone Maggie had bought him. She thought he had taken it out and buried it because he didn’t want it. Instead, the fresh hole under the dogwood was merely for safe storage. She certainly had a lot to learn about her new roommate.
As soon as Nick unleashed Harvey, he bounded up the stairs.
“He looks like a guy with a mission.” Nick watched.
“He’ll plop down in the corner of my bedroom and gnaw on that thing for hours.”
“The two of you seem to be getting attached to each other.”
“No way. The smelly brute goes home as soon as they find his mom.” Or at least, that’s what she kept telling herself. Fact was, she would feel horribly betrayed when Rachel Endicott showed up and Harvey ran to her without so much as a glance in Maggie’s direction. The thought alone felt like a stab. Okay, maybe not a stab—a poke or a pinch.
The point was, Gwen was full of crap. Letting anyone in, including a goddamn dog, usually ended up hurting like hell. So she protected herself. It was one of the few things in her twisted life she could protect herself from. One of the last things she could have control over.
She realized Nick was leaning against the kitchen counter, watching her, concern clouding his crystal blue eyes.
“Maggie, are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she answered, and his smile told her she had hesitated much too long to convince him.
“You know what?” he said as he walked slowly across the kitchen toward her, stopping directly in front of her, his eyes holding hers. “Why don’t you let me take care of you for one evening?”
His fingertips stroked her cheek. The familiar current of electricity raced through her, and she knew exactly what he meant by saying he wanted to take care of her.
“Nick, I can’t.”
She felt his breath in her hair. His lips didn’t pay attention to her words as they traced where his fingers had been. Her breathing was already uneven by the time his lips brushed hers. But instead of kissing her, he moved to her other cheek. His lips moved over her eyelids and nose and forehead and hair.
“Nick,” she tried again, only she wondered if the word was audible. Her own heart beat so noisily in her ears, she couldn’t hear herself think. Not that her thought process was in any kind of working condition. Instead of concentrating on what his hands and lips were doing, she kept thinking about the edge of countertop that was cutting into the small of her back as if that would allow her to hang on to reality and not be swept away.
Finally, Nick stopped, his eyes meeting hers, his face still so close. God, she could easily get lost in his eyes, the warm blue oceans. His hands caressed and massaged her shoulders. His fingers strayed inside her collar to gently touch her throat and then the nape of her neck.
“I just want to make you feel good, Maggie.”
“Nick, I really can’t do this,” she heard herself say while the flutter in her stomach disagreed with her words, screaming at her to take them back.
Nick smiled, and his fingers caressed her cheek again.
“I know,” he said, taking a deep breath. There was no disappointment or hurt, only resignation, almost
as if her response had been a foregone conclusion. “I know you’re not ready. It’s too soon after Greg.”
It was great that he understood, because Maggie wasn’t sure she did. How could she explain it to him?
“With Greg, it was so comfortable.” It was the wrong thing to say. She saw the wounded look in his eyes.
“And it’s not comfortable with me?”
“With you, it’s…” His fingers were distracting her, still exploring, making her breathing uneven. Was he trying to change her mind? Did he realize how easy it could be to change her mind? “With you,” she tried to continue, “it’s so intense, it scares me.” There, she said it. She had admitted it out loud.
“And it scares you because you might lose control.” He looked into her eyes.
“God, you know me well, Morrelli.”
“Tell you what. When you’re ready, and I’m emphasizing when. No ifs,” he said, his eyes not letting her go, his fingers still touching her. “I’ll let you have all the control you want. But tonight, Maggie, I just want to make you feel good.”
The flutter reawakened, immediately kicking into overdrive.
“Nick—”
“Actually, I was thinking maybe I could fix you dinner.”
Her shoulders relaxed immediately, and she sighed with a smile. “I didn’t realize you knew how to cook.”
“There are a lot of things I know how to do that I haven’t shown you…yet.” And this time, he smiled.
CHAPTER 53
Maggie couldn’t believe such delicious aromas were coming from her kitchen. Even Harvey had come down for a look and a closer sniff.
“Where did you learn to cook like this?”
“Hey, I’m Italian.” Nick faked an accent that sounded nothing like Italian as he stirred the tomato sauce. “Don’t tell Christine, okay?”